25 Types of kisses
by Hanatamago2204
Summary: 25 different types of kisses. / Leave a pairing and a number for me and I will let my imagination run free! Collection of oneshots
1. Rules

So, I found this on tumblr and I really wanted to try this. So I thought, why not post this to fanfiction and see who responds? I also want to use it to keep myself focussed on writing, since I have been encountering a little trouble when it comes to keeping my writing up and updating on time. Sorry if you are impatiently waiting for my next chapters...

That being said, you can send me the requests per Private Message, review... Tumblr... I don't really mind anything. I also am open to any pairing, so don't hesitate to ask. Also, if you have specific wishes for the story, for example an AU, the character has a sibling or whatever, don't worry about asking it, I don't mind.

I will continue writing for these series until either I grow tired or the people reading this, so it's not like I will write a kiss only once. If you see a kiss you like for a certain pairing, but another pairing has already been written with that kiss, don't hesitate to still request yours.

Also, when requesting, I'd prefer it if you have an account on this site. That way, I can send a message back to you, for example if you ask for a story with an OC or a special AU. It's okay if you are a guest, but it's just a shame if I can't ask you questions or respond to your questions. Also, if you have no other option than to be a Guest, please leave a name. That way, I can post that name in the story, so you know it's your request.

Here are the kisses!

* * *

Send me a number and a pairing, and I'll do a short description, max 1000 words.

1\. "Good morning" kiss  
2\. Kiss on the forehead  
3\. Drunk/sloppy kiss  
4\. Awkward kiss  
5\. Angry kiss  
6\. "I'm sorry" kiss  
7\. "I've missed you" kiss  
8\. Seductive kiss  
9\. "War's End" kiss  
10\. "Goodbye" kiss  
11\. "I almost lost you" kiss  
12\. Kiss on the nose  
13\. Kiss on the ear  
14\. Kiss on the neck  
15\. Kiss on the back  
16\. French kiss  
17\. Shy kiss  
18\. Surprised kiss  
19\. Sad kiss  
20\. Exhausted parents kiss  
21\. Jealous kiss  
22\. Giggly kiss  
23\. Last kiss  
24\. Returned from the dead kiss  
25\. "We can never be together" kiss


	2. Gone Forever

_Story Name:_ Gone Forever

 _Pairing:_ Taiwan x Japan

 _Requested by:_ Astrid Dalgaard

 _Word count:_ 490 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ "We can never be together" Kiss

* * *

 _Gone forever_

The soft sound of the organ started to fill the church. It was soothing and felt like a warm embrace, causing Taiwan's tears to finally flow out of her eyes. She didn't notice the other nations around her, that were also in tears. China, Hong Kong, England, Greece, Germany, Norway… All of them were sad to see that their long-time friend and in some sense colleague had passed away. Yes, Japan was gone.

It had been an accident. A natural disaster. A tsunami had hit the country, again. Another nuclear plant was destroyed and had caused a huge explosion. Because of that explosion and tsunami, a big part of the people of Japan had been killed, causing Japan to become weaker. The economy crashed hard and products became expensive. The other countries wanted to help, but the nuclear radiation was so strong, that it was dangerous to go to the site of the accident. Starvation came around and did the last bit.

To be truthful, no one really understood how something so trivial could have ended the long and prosperous life of the Asian country. Fact was now, that he was gone. Gone forever. That was the reason everyone was gathered here now, to say their final goodbyes. Taiwan was the last person in the church ship now, every other country had already headed out, consoling and looking for a warm hug to console themselves. The young female nation, however, didn't want to say goodbye yet.

She still didn't believe it. How could he have gone? He was so strong, so gentle, so wise… It had made her believe he would never disappear. Japan, he would always be with her, take care of her and help her when she was in trouble. But that could never happen again. Neither could she tell him how she felt. He had meant the world to her, he was her shoulder to lean on. The older country had helped her through so many hardships, but she could never be together with him now.

The girl looked at the face of the man that she knew so well. His eyes were closed and his pale features seemed even more white today. As if he were sleeping, she thought. Tears fell down on the cold skin in the coffin. Closing her own eyes, she bowed down, holding her dark hair back. Then, very gently, she placed her lips on his, to say goodbye.

"I love you", she whispered, her voice trembling. A small part of her wished he would respond, blush like he would always do when she told him that she loved him. But he wouldn't, never again. Wiping away the tears off her face, she turned around and walked down the path in between the hardwood benches, towards the big twin doors. Before opening them, she looked back a last time. "Goodbye…" Then, she walked outside, into the sunlight, after her friends and family.

* * *

Hey there, here's the first oneshot for this story. I will be uploading more than one today, because I had 7 requests this morning when I woke up! Holy cow! I hope you liked it, Astrid. It was a bit difficult, and it really made me sad, too. But it was fun nonetheless

~Hana

P.S.: I'm sorry if the characters seem out of character, I haven't written a lot yet. But that's the whole point for this xD


	3. Happiness

_Story name:_ Happiness

 _Pairing:_ Japan x China

 _Requested by:_ YukiOwO

 _Word count:_ 732 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ "I'm sorry" kiss

* * *

Happiness

The doorbell rung and woke up the older male that was sleeping in his large bed. Who could be here at this hour? Yao didn't expect any company today, nor did he have plans for going out with someone. With a yawn, he got up, grabbing a robe to hide his body underneath. Not that he was ashamed of it, but he couldn't face whoever was waiting at the door with no clothes on.

The floor in his house felt cold underneath his feet. His bed had felt cold too, but it had been that way ever since Kiku left him. The memory of the other Asian made him cringe. Anger had been replaced with a longing some time ago already. Yao missed his ex-lover. A lot more than he would let show to the world outside. But he had to move on. He couldn't reminisce in the past forever. The Japanese had decided to leave him. End of story. Not that the Chinese understood that. Had he been boring? Was he not pretty enough? Did he fall in love with someone else?

Shaking his head, the long haired male pushed away those questions. The thoughts were only going to make him sad, which always ended in either eating way too much, or drinking way too much. Neither of those two were good for him. In the hallway, he glanced into the big mirror that hung on the left wall. His eyes met with those of his reflection, noticing the dark circles and messy hair his twin on the glass surface had. Yao hoped his guest would not mind the way he looked now, since it was nowhere near decent.

Kiku had always loved the way Yao looked when he was fresh out of bed. The way his hair was just all over the place and not tied into a pony tail, the sleepiness that turned his voice into a deep grumble. Mornings in the Wang house had always been full of love. However, not anymore. The Chinese felt annoyed that he had thought about his ex-boyfriend again, for the second time in minutes. He rubbed his eyes and continued walking towards the door. Unlocking it, he felt a little nervous. What if there was someone out there who meant harm? He could fight, yes. But he wasn't very big, nor did he have a lot of muscles. He couldn't possibly defend himself if a burglar or something would be standing there…

His worries were without reason. The person standing on his porch in this early hour, wasn't a burglar. It wasn't a murderer either. Not the police to tell him his brother had been hurt. It was Kiku. At the sight of the other, Yao froze, eyes wide. They stared at each other for a good 5 minutes, before the older of the two spoke.

"What are you doing here?", he asked, his voice just a whisper. Tears were threatening to spill, hands were trembling. Kiku shook his head, biting his lip ferociously. He really wanted to explain what was going on, why he had decided to show up on the Chinese's house at 3 in the morning. But he couldn't. The short haired felt so many things at the same time, that it was impossible to speak. He had missed the Chinese. Every day had been torture for him, haunted by the smiling face that he had known so well. It made him loathe himself for leaving Yao in the first place. Looking back, he didn't understand what had driven him to go away.

Instead of explaining, he just looked up, eyes big and dark.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, tears starting to bleed from his eyes. "Please forgive me." Yao felt his heart tighten, a sharp pang in his chest. How could he say no to those brown orbs that meant the world to him? It was impossible. The nod of Yao's head was enough for Kiku. Their lips found each other, a relief for both of them. Feelings that had been hidden away for months were unleashed again. Tears dripped onto the floor while lips were still massaging each other. The Chinese felt the so well-known arms around his waist again, pulling him close. He knew the male in front of him was feeling the same way he was. Happiness bubbled in their chests. They wouldn't let go of each other easily again.


	4. Shall we just run away?

_Name:_ Shall we just run away?

 _Pairing:_ England x Spain

 _Requested by:_ Nikita Yuara

 _Word count:_ 633

 _Kiss:_ Kiss on the neck

England sighed while he put down his cup of tea. Once more, like always, the meeting had resulted in a mess. America wasn't arguing with him, this time, it was Russia who had to deal with the hyperactive country. France was busy trying to stop them, earning glares from China. Germany was probably counting to 1.524.645 in his head, giving his all not to explode. Italy was talking about pasta with his brother and… Another sigh rolled over the British man's lips. He was so fed up with this. He needed a break. Getting up, he murmured an excuse and headed for the door. No one noticed, except for Spain.

A smirk appeared on the face of the Spanish male, skin darkened by the sun. He looked around, making sure no one was paying attention to him and then proceeded to exit the meeting room as well, following his lover. Because that was what they were. Lovers. They hadn't told anyone and they wanted to keep it that way. Everyone thought Spain was together with Romano, England was often paired with either America or France. There had been times when people thought the Briton had something going on with China. But all of those suspicions were wrong, since Spain and England had been together ever since their pirate days.

The auburn haired man found his blond darling in the hallway, sitting on one of the chairs that decorated it. The Brit was looking out the window, a scowl on his face. He looked tired.

"You okay", the cheery Spaniard inquired, his voice more serious than he usually let it sound. His hands found their home on England's shoulders, where they quickly started to massage the stiff muscles. The blond let a sigh escape from his perfect lips.

"I just needed a little silence around me. No obnoxious Frenchman arguing with a loud American over how to deal with rubbish and I don't know what." England closed his eyes, resting his head against his lover's chest. "Shall we just run away?", he boldly asked, voice no more than a whisper, scared his question would be heard by someone who wasn't supposed to hear it.

Spain kissed the other in response, his lips almost glued to the Briton's forehead. After a few seconds, they moved to the blonde's cheeks, jaw and then the pink lips that had just articulated a delightful question.

"I'm all yours", he whispered into England's ear, knowing the Brit would be feeling shivers everywhere. Then, the country of passion let his lips wander down from the ear to his lover's second most sensitive body part; his neck. He honored the milky skin with gentle kisses and soft bites, interrupting the sweet love with a harsh suck from time to time to mark the skin. Yes, he may be England's, but England was also his, and he would not let anyone take the Briton away from him.

"Mhh, Spain… Let's go", England whined, his hands tangling in the dark brown locks, pulling on the strands. A soft chuckle reached the shy nation's ears, making him squirm.

"Impatient, my dear", the sunny nation hummed, while gently tugging the hands out of his locks. Holding onto them with one hand, his other found its way to the blonde's slender legs, lifting the male up from the chair. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you", he said, walking out of the building. They would not come out of their hotel room for a while…

In the meeting room, the argument had finally been settled and everyone was seated again. Well, not everyone…

"Has someone seen England?" That was America.

"Spain is also gone." Lovino looked pleased after his brother noticed their big brother was missing. However, no one knew where they had gone to…


	5. In between shots of Vodka

_Name:_ In between shots of Vodka

 _Pairing:_ China x Russia

 _Requested by:_ Mushybuumba

 _Word count:_ 870 (story only)

 _Kiss:_ Drunk/sloppy kiss

* * *

In between shots of Vodka

Usually, Yao wasn't the type to go out and get drunk. He hated bars, they were always way to crowded and the music was never his taste, and then he wasn't talking about the volume of the sounds the people at the bar called 'music'. However, tonight was different. His work had been a pain in the arse and he just wanted to have a good time. He had been feeling lonely for the past few weeks and he wouldn't mind finding a young thing to hook up with. Right now, his eyes were scanning the room, looking at the people on the dancefloor, a glass of rice wine in his hand. It wasn't his first drink, nor his second or third. It might have been his fourth, perhaps fifth. Honestly, the man with black hair had lost count a little while ago.

Something had caught his eye. It was a tall male, with a round, slightly childish face. The object of his desire had a prominent nose, but it didn't bother the Chinese observer. The skin of the other was almost white in the dimmed room, a smile plastered on his lips. Yes, Yao wanted that man. He continued sipping his wine, enjoying the effect the beverage had on him. His face felt flushed, but he wasn't completely wasted yet. It took more than a few glasses of the drink to get Yao drunk. After drinking the last drop, he put the glass on the bar. He was going to hunt the tall male down. He was preying on him now, like a ferocious predator.

Yao meandered through the crowd, avoiding the people that were moving to the music. He had only one goal, and said goal had noticed him now. A soft smile found its way to the tall male's face, welcoming the Chinese.

"Hello my friend", the smaller spoke, his voice louder than normal to make it audible for the other. "Would you care for a drink?" The smile grew wider at that question, an enthusiastic nod followed. "My name is Yao by the way", the Asian spoke, stretching out his hand as a greeting.

"Ivan", the taller said, his voice a lot higher than the other had expected it to be. Without further formalities, the two made their way to the bar, sitting down next to each other. Ivan ordered a Vodka, Yao settled for the Chinese equivalent, Baijiu.

Time went by faster than expected, and so were the drinks they consumed. The more they drank, the less understandable their conversations became. At some point, in between two drinks, Yao found himself on Ivan's lip, his arms around the other's neck, that was covered by a scarf. Ivan seemed to have not expected the other to be this promiscuous and daring, because his eyebrows moved up at the sight of the slender Asian on his legs. He may have seemed like it, but Ivan wasn't very sober either. However, he had been drinking less than Yao, so he was less intoxicated. That didn't mean that he wasn't feeling frisky. The whole night, the two men had been flirting, passing dangerous glances and licking their lips. At some point, Ivan had let his hand rest on the slender legs of the Asian, which eventually led to the current situation.

The Russian gave up. Yao had been demanding attention ever since he had sat down on the other's lap, tugging on the scarf, ashy blond locks, pressing open mouth kisses to the little skin that was revealed by the fabric. Yes, the Asian was drunk. But also very breath taking and sexy. Ivan had been waiting all night for something like this to happen, he really wanted a taste of those lips that had invited him, a few shots of Vodka ago. Ever since they gifted him a little smile, he had been hooked.

"Yao…", he mumbled into the small ear that was holding the black locks away from the pretty face. "I want to kiss you." Yao barely let him finish the statement, his face coming closer.

"Go ahead", the Asian dared the other underneath him, his voice showing that he had been drinking more than just one glass.

Ivan didn't need another invite and pressed his lips to the other's. The kiss was not perfect, not gently. Absolutely different from the ones you'd see in the movies. It was animalistic, needing. However, because of their intoxicated state, the most perfect word for their kiss was sloppy. Their tongues were playing with each other, hands roaming and discovering the body underneath the other's clothes. Yao's slim fingers framed the Russian's round face, pulling it closer, as to say that he never wanted this kiss to end. Ivan's hands were resting on Yao's hips, pressing the slim male against himself, feeling the heat increase between them. Their kiss seemed to last forever, even though it was far from romantic. It was all they wanted right now, all they needed to breathe. Both of the males eventually had to break apart for air, but they didn't let go of the other. One look between them was enough to settle their next steps; find somewhere private to kiss some more.

* * *

Hey there, I finished two more stories, as you may have noticed. At this point, I have finished four of the eight requests I have received. Please don't be upset if your story is not here yet, I will write them tomorrow or somewhere this week, depending on my schedule. Also, don't worry about the pairing, I really don't mind writing anything (looking at you, Rhyme :3). If you have any special requests, an AU for example or a situation, don't hesitate asking for that.

It's okay to send in multiple requests, I don't mind. Like I said in the Rules, this is a way of practising my writing some more and exploring the other Hetalia characters.

~Hana


	6. Family Joy

_Name:_ Family joy

 _Pairing:_ Canada x America

 _Requested by:_ Rhyme13kh14Xion8

 _Word count:_ 572 (story only)

 _Kiss:_ Kiss on the back

Family joy

It had been a rough day for Alfred. Nothing seemed to work today, he dropped things, causing them to break, his work had been awful and just… It had not been his day. The Alpha had been looking forward to coming home to his mate and his little children, spending the rest of the evening in the Omega's loving embrace and just relaxing. The smell of dinner welcomed the tired man, excited footsteps bringing a smile to his tired expression.

"Daddy!", the first of his two children shouted, jumping into his father's open arms. Alfred and Matthew's eldest son was just like his Alpha father; overly excited, always hungry and having a seemingly endless well of energy stored in his body. The younger one of the Jones' children, a little girl, was more like the Omega. She was quiet, enjoyed reading and the silence of the house when everyone was asleep or working. Drawing and painting were her talents and she loved spending her time in her room, doodling on the white paper with either pencils or paint.

"Hello my cuties", Alfred greeted the two with a tired voice, kissing both of them on their soft blonde hair. At the sound of gentle footsteps, the Alpha looked up, meeting the loving gaze of his mate. "I'm home", he said softly, pulling the smaller male closer for a kiss.

A fond smile found its way to Matthew's mouth before he granted his Alpha's wish for a kiss.

"Dinner is ready", the smaller said, ushering the children into the kitchen after escaping from the tight embrace. Alfred nodded and proceeded to take of his coat and shoes, following after his little family. He watched Matthew carry over the pans that held their food. While doing so, Alfred couldn't help but think how lovely his young Omega looked in an apron, taking care of their little family the two had wanted ever since they had started going out together.

Later, while they were cuddling in their bed, the children asleep in their own little nests, Matthew snuggling against Alfred's back, the Alpha counted his blessings. He had a wonderful mate, that always took care of him with a gentle smile, kissing him and taking away his worries. Then there were his two children, that looked so much like their parents and were just as lovely as the couple, caring and sweet. They had a home they lived in without having to worry about finances or not having food for the night. His life was seemingly perfect.

Gentle kisses that were placed on his cheek and neck, slowly moving towards his back and down his spine, distracted the male with messy blond hair from his reverie, shifting his attention to the smaller male that was placing the butterfly like touches along his back bone.

"I love you. I love you, the little ones, our house, your cooking, the way we spend our Sundays laying in our bed together and going for a walk. I love everything about this life together", the Alpha whispered into the dark bedroom, feeling his Omega clutch him tighter. Alfred turned around to kiss his husband, a loving smile on his face. Matthew returned his smile, gently pressing their lips together.

"I love you to", he said softly, his breath tickling the Alpha's skin. They held each other close, occasionally pressing a kiss onto the other while they drifted off to sleep.


	7. Get-Well-Kiss

_Name:_ Get-Well-Kiss

 _Pairing:_ Japan x Switzerland

 _Requested by:_ A broken Imagi-NATION

 _Word count:_ 701 (story only)

 _Kiss:_ Awkward kiss

Get-Well-Kiss

The sound of the school bell echoed through the hallway while Kiku watched his blond friend grab his lunch box, decorated with goats. The other young kids in their class had already left the room, way too excited to follow a loud Dane out on the playground. If you didn't know better, you'd say that the teacher enjoyed the playtime more than his 5 and 6-year-old students. Yes, Mr. Køhler seemed just like a little kid, Kiku and Vash had heard Mr. Bondevik mutter that more than once now.

With a gentle smile, the two friends started to walk down the hallway, following their teacher and classmates' example, all of them already outside and making a ruckus on the playground, together with the other children at school. Since the two of them were rather quiet, more serious children, they preferred to sit in a corner of the playground, underneath the lush trees and observe while eating their lunch, rather than joining in on the fun the other children had, judging by their screams and laughter. Usually Kiku and Vash spend their lunch in silence, only talking about their favourite television show, Pokémon, from time to time.

Today was no different and they were discussing the latest episode, in which Ash had caught another water type Pokémon and team Rocket had once again tried to take Pikachu, only to fail miserably. However, their little conversation was interrupted by an obnoxious shout from one of the children on the playground, asking the two if they could shoot back the ball that was currently rolling towards them. The friends looked at each other and shrugged. Kiku got up and walked towards the round toy, kicking it with his foot. The ball started to roll back the way it came, eventually landing on the football field. The little Asian ignored the thanks that was shouted his way and instead ran back to his spot underneath the shielding branches of the tree.

On his way back to Vash, however, he tripped over his shoelaces that had been open, something he had failed to notice. He smacked into the pavement with a soft "oof", feeling a sharp pain on his lips after he had collided with the stones. Hearing a worried gasp from his friend and the thudding of footsteps coming closer, Kiku got up and brushed off the dirt from his clothes. A faint metal taste was on his lips as he tried to get rid of a very persistent stain of dark sand on his knee.

"Are you okay?", the blond called, stopping in front of the black haired boy. Kiku wanted to give him a positive answer, but he noticed Vash closing in on him and he suddenly felt something soft on his lips. The dark eyes widened at the touch and he pulled away, pressing his fingers to the soft pieces of flesh that hid his white teeth.

"What was that for", he asked, heart thumping in his chest. He felt awkward, getting a kiss from his best friend. Since Kiku had a few older brothers who had made it their duty to tell the youngest of the 5 to tell him about girls and kissing, he already knew that a kiss on the lips was something special. Perhaps Vash liked him? The other boy had rosy cheeks and he mumbled something about blood and a get-well-kiss. After asking Vash to repeat, the little boy blushed even more.

"I said you had a bit of blood on your lip and my mama said that you will get well if you give a kiss to a wound. She always does that when I have cut myself or scraped my knee again." Though the response was still very soft, Kiku heard it this time. A gentle smile made its way to his now blood-free lips as he told his friend a little thank you.

"I'm sure it'll be gone soon. It doesn't even hurt", the Asian then said, walking back to their spot to continue eating their lunch. Kiku couldn't help but feel his lips again, thinking about whether this was his first kiss and whether Vash had enjoyed it as much as he had…


	8. Kiss of Mannerheim

_Name:_ Kiss of Mannerheim

 _Pairing:_ Denmark x Norway

 _Requested by:_ Pink636

 _Word count:_ 634 (story only)

 _Kiss:_ Sad Kiss

 **Warning, this story is going to be very sad and it contains death. If you don't like this, don't read it.**

Kiss of Mannerheim

Just like the war, the environment around them was merciless. Thick snow was muffling the footsteps of the enemy, the cold turned their fingers and toes blue. Mathias and Lukas had lost sight of their battalion, Lukas staying with his injured comrade. The winter had not surprised them, but the sudden drop in temperature was what they hadn't expected. And now, exhausted and wounded, they were lying in a little trench Lukas had dug out in an attempt to make a little camp that was shielded from the biting wind. However, it wasn't enough.

Neither of them could find the energy to get up and go search for wood. It would be useless anyway, darkness and whirling snow that was pushed around by the strong wind made it impossible to see. Instead, they had decided to lay against each other, trying to warm the other with their fleeting warmth. Strangely enough, they felt as if they were at peace. Their lips and noses had become blue long ago and neither of them really felt their hands and feet anymore, just a warm burning that consumed the limbs. It was traitorous, the warmth they felt was actually the burn from the frostbite that had taken over their hands and feet, killing off the human flesh slowly.

Lukas managed to open his lips and mumble his companion's name, grabbing his attention. Although the Dane's lips were also frozen, he smiled, the skin crackling open from the motion, blood seeping through.

"What's up", he rasped, words almost non existing because of the lack of movement from his lips. The other didn't answer, but just stared into the blue, blue eyes in front of him, the only thing that wasn't black or white in this snowy world.

Both of then knew this was not going to end well. They had been prepared to die many times before, ever since they had been sent to the Mannerheim line to battle against the Russians. Yet somehow it still was hard to accept that this was possibly one of their last moments. Scooting closer and possibly tightening his and Mathias' embrace, Lukas licked his lips, tasting the blood and the cold of the winter on his tongue. He wanted to tell his secret. After all these days, he wanted Mathias to know his well-hidden feelings, before they left this world. But his voiced failed him this time, lack of saliva making it impossible to move his tongue again. So, instead of speaking, he showed his comrade how he felt, pressing his cold, bloody lips to the other pair of equally cold and bloody lips.

At first, the smaller male was afraid that the man in his arms couldn't feel the kiss. But the tightening grip around his waist, convinced him otherwise. The gentle pressure that he soon felt against his own lips, made him realise that Mathias had felt the same way. Even though neither of them actually spoke, preparing themselves for their end, their actions had told the truth. The fact that the smaller of the two had stayed behind, dragging the fatally wounded along in the snow, drenching the two of them with the water that the snow turned into at the touch of their uniforms. Water, that was now slowly freezing and sucking out the life of their bodies. The two men held each other even closer while they just looked at the other, sadness in their eyes and their kisses, while they waited for the man with the scythe to come and take away their misery. That was how they were found a few days later, snow had turned their eyelashes white, eyes still focussed on the pair in front of them, no life left in them. Until the end, they had been together, holding each other.

* * *

I'm sorry.

For those of you who are not as interested in the Second World War as I am, the Mannerheim line is the line of bunkers close to the Russian border in Finland. There, part of the Winter War battles were fought. There is a military award in Finnland, called the Cross of Mannerheim, which was the inspiration for the name of the story.

~Hana


	9. First kiss

_Name:_ First Kiss

 _Pairing:_ Denmark x Norway

 _Requested by:_ A Guest who didn't leave a name

 _Word count:_ 636 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Awkward kiss

First Kiss

It was one of their many nights out together. Norway still wondered why he had agreed to going to the bar with Denmark. Why? Well, every time they went out together, it would turn out the same way. Denmark would order beer, chug it down like it was water and order another. Within half an hour, he would have emptied 5 beers. Then, he would move on to something heavier, like Tequila or Vodka. After a few shots of that, he was usually tipsy enough to start flirting. Not with the girls in the bar, no. The king of idiots would start flirting with Norway.

Now, if he would actually use normal pick-up lines, or better, no pick-up lines but just compliments, it may have worked on the stoic country. But no, Denmark insisted on using the weirdest pick-up lines Norway had ever heard. His "best" ones were for example: "There's a party in my pants and you're invited." Usually followed by a wide grin and a smug wink. As soon as Denmark started to pull out his repertoire of weird lines, Norway would start to ignore the Dane. Sometimes the lines were actually a little sweet. They weren't good, but just sweet. If you think the line "You know what you should be for Halloween? Mine." is good, then you clearly need to get your opinions straight.

If Denmark was particularly intoxicated, which mostly happened after he managed to grab some Absinthe, his lines would get more dirty. One very annoying line Norway remembered from not too long ago, was "If I flip a coin, what are my chances of getting head?". He really had to try his best not to slam his head onto the bar, the stupidity of his southern neighbour was too much sometimes.

So far, Denmark had not been reaching for the Absinthe yet and he had been quiet for almost ten minutes now, something that slightly alarmed the cold Nordic. Slowly, he looked at the other nation from the corner of his eyes. With a relieved sigh, he noticed that Denmark had not gone missing, had not passed out (yet), nor was he crying. He did, however, seem like he was up to something. Just as Norway wanted to open his mouth to ask the big Dane what was going on, the other started to speak, irrationally breathing in between the words he spoke, grabbing his chest.

"Hey… Norge… I think… I'm chocking… Quick! Give me… Mouth to mouth…" After the last word, he stopped breathing and he closed his eyes, slowly tippling towards his drinking buddy. Norway just stared at him, blinking a few times. He wasn't sure if this was serious. It didn't seem like it was, judging by the curl of Denmark's lips. God, that idiot. That handsome, funny, stupid, lovable dork. Without thinking too long about it, the sober one of the two leaned forward as well, quickly kissing the lips that curled slightly. However, at the same time, the Dane moved away, giving up on receiving a kiss, so Norway's lips met a stubbly cheek instead of soft lips.

Obviously taken aback by the stupid mistake he had made, Norway pulled back, hand covering his mouth and blush spreading all over his face. Denmark just looked at him with a mixture of shock and amazement, a smile starting to form on his face.

"Norge, did you just…?"

"No."

"But I swear I felt…-"

"Your imagination."

"Are you su-"

"Yes, now shut up and buy me some Aquavit."

As Denmark chuckled and called for the bartender, sliding an arm around Norway's waist, the smaller of the two couldn't help but blush even more. This was, by far, the worst first kiss he had ever shared with someone. If you could even count it as a kiss.


	10. Playing Pocky

_Name:_ Playing Pocky

 _Pairing:_ Canada x France

 _Requested by:_ YukiOwO

 _Word count:_ 621 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ French Kiss

Playing Pocky

Francis smirked while he looked at the red package in his hand, thinking about how he could use this chocolate and cookie treat he had been gifted from Japan.

"Matthieu~", he called into the hallway of his shared home with Canada, also known as Matthew Williams. His lover. "Matthieu mon chéri, I'm home", Francis shouted as he walked into the hallway after slipping off his dress shoes. It was his duty to always look stunningly handsome, something that he managed to do as easily as breathing.

After making some coffee for two, Francis was startled by Matthew, who gently snuck his arms around the other, having entered the kitchen completely silent. Not that Francis wasn't used to the almost stealthy way of walking Canada had adopted over the years. But it was just very scary to be suddenly touched out of nowhere.

"Welcome home", Canada mumbled into the back of his French lover. France smiled and turned around, letting himself be captured for just a little longer.

"Mhh, it's good to be home, Matthieu." The two lovers enjoyed their dark brown brewery in silence, leaning against the counter and occasionally staring into each other's eyes. After the liquid had completely disappeared into their stomachs, France played his cards. "Say, my dove, do you want to play a little game", he asked, a smirk accentuating his face. The representative of Canada felt up to the challenge and stole the package of Pocky sticks from his significant other.

Unbeknownst to Francis, Matthew knew the game teenagers played with those chocolate covered cookie sticks. He didn't bother telling his favourite Frenchman that he knew the rules when the blond explained them, sitting the two of them down on their sofa. Today, he felt promiscuous, like a tease. With a smile, he just nodded and listened to Francis' explanation, thinking of ways to surprise his better half. Confident, Matthew let the Frenchman place the stick between his teeth, locking gazes. Slowly, they started to nibble on the cookie, letting the chocolate melt on their tongues.

Bite by bite was taken, bringing the two countries closer and closer. Even though Matthew knew what he wanted and what was going to happen, he couldn't help but blush when he got close enough to the blond Frenchman to smell his wonderful eau de toilette that he ever so carefully applied every morning in front of their mirror in their bathroom. For a second, the Canadian country interrupted his biting, swallowing to prepare himself, ready to take the lead with one large bite. Just as he had planned, he bit off the last bit of Pocky, before wantonly pressing his lips to Francis', successfully surprising the country of Passion.

A muffled moan was heard when Matthew tangled his hands in the blond locks of his partner, gently pushing him onto the soft cushions of the sofa. Francis let his darling control the kiss for a while, before taking the lead back. He gently bit Canada's lower lip, drawing a gasp from them and sliding his tongue into the wetness at the same time. The Canadian closed his eyes and pressed against the Frenchman, tugging at the locks in his own hands, urging the older nation to not break the kiss. He enjoyed the feeling of Francis' hands running down his back, cupping his ass, squeezing it just the way his lover liked it. Their tongues were caressing each other, wetting the lips and sending pleasant shivers through their hot bodies. Another moan escaped from the Frenchman when Matthew boldly let his free hand dart over the hardening body part in Francis' pants. Finally breaking apart for air, the two silently decided that playing Pocky was their new favourite game.


	11. It's my turn now

_Name:_ It's my turn now

 _Pairing:_ Sweden x Finland

 _Requested by:_ SunIsAtMyDoor

 _Word count:_ 606 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Exhausted Parents kiss

It's my turn now

In the silence of the dark master bedroom Tiino and Berwald occupied, the sound of a crying baby was anything but welcome. Their little one had been crying every other hour, having an upset stomach and teething 5 teeth at the same time was tough. If someone had told them when they adopted their Peter that their sleeping routine would become this messed up, they probably would have reconsidered signing the contract. Groaning loudly, the smaller of the pair hidden underneath the duvets shifted towards the edge of the bed, getting ready to make his way down the hallway.

Now, if you think that Tiino wasn't grateful for finally being able to fulfil his long-time wish, you're wrong. The Finn enjoyed almost every moment he was able to spend with their little bundle of joy, whether it was nursing the baby, playing with him or just watching him sleep in his arms, everything was more wonderful than he could have imagined. The only thing that bothered him right now, was that it was the fourth time this night that he had to move out of his comfortable and warm bed, into the cold of Berwald and his house to try his best to ease Peter's pain. There was no particular reason why Tiino was always the one to get out of bed. Perhaps because he was easier to wake up and was therefore awake before his husband was. Or because the Swede seemed to have more trouble to leave the warmth of the bed. It didn't really matter.

After 20 minutes of torture, err, trying to get little Peter back to sleep, Tiino finally succeeded and he tumbled back into his own bedroom, nuzzling against the giant source of warmth that was still there, unmoved and now asleep again. Sadly, his own well-earned sleep would not come, he had been awake long enough now for his brain to think it was morning. With a sigh, the Finn changed his sleeping position once more, now lying on his back as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, groaning loudly. Well, there wasn't anything he could do right now other than lie still and look at the darkness of the room. The minutes ticked away and slowly sleep started to grasp the little man after all. Content, he rolled over to his left, scooting closer to his husband.

The blonde's drowsiness, however, would not last long, for Peter started to scream bloody murder for the fifth time that night, only ten minutes after his father had started to dose off. To Tiino's surprise, Berwald stirred next to him, a sigh escaping from the tall blonde's lips as long eyelashes fluttered. The stoic man rolled over, looking at the small, usually cheerful man next to him.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it", Tiino mumbled before pushing himself off the mattress and into the cold air. He was stopped by a warm, big and gentle hand that grabbed his wrist. Looking back over his shoulder, he was met with Berwald's loving gaze. At least, the blond assumed it was loving, to actually see what the giant's eyes looked like was impossible because of the dark.

"No, you go sleep. It's my turn now", his Swedish husband said lowly, pulling Tiino back into the warmth of the bedsheets.

"Thank you", the man in the bed whispered after receiving a gentle, but exhausted kiss from his partner, who then proceeded to make his way to Peter's bedroom to try and still the baby. Sleep grabbed him firmly now and Tiino didn't manage to stay awake until Berwald returned.

* * *

Okay, so right now, I have 9 other requests waiting for me. I'm going to try to write and upload 3 stories a day, but I don't know if I will be able to do so, because some of the pairings are very rare and I'm just very insecure about my writing. So, if you requested something and it takes a little longer for me to write, I'm sorry. Know that I am going to write all of the requests I get.

Also, I just wanted to ask you if you could please tell me what you think of my stories I wrote if you requested one. Like I said before, I am very insecure about my writing, so it will help me if you were to tell me whether you enjoyed it or not.

~Hana


	12. In between dusty books and old papers

_Name:_ In between dusty books and old papers

 _Pairing:_ Lithuania x Poland

 _Requested by:_ SunIsAtMyDoor

 _Word count:_ 869 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Shy kiss

It was in between the dusty books and old papers of the library where Toris would always find his peace. Every afternoon he spent there, sitting in a corner, reading or just staring into nothingness. Sometimes he would start a chat with the librarian, but most of the times, he enjoyed his alone time. That was, until Feliks came along.

Feliks was anything but quiet. He was loud, loved to talk, flashy clothes and everything that was pink. He was a very… Unique person. Just as unique as his way of talking. At first, Toris had been annoyed and slightly irritated by the amount of words that quilled from the Pole's mouth. A mouth that was always lined with a soft pink lip gloss. It was a strange friendship, that had started when Feliks had moved into town and had to share a textbook with Toris during their lesson.

"Hey, I like, totes forgot my textbook. So, if you could, like, share yours with me, that would be totes fab", Feliks had said as he leaned over to Toris, pointing at the thick book with his pink nails. The poor Lithuanian had been raised in a fairly conservative household and he had been a little overwhelmed by the liberal boy next to him. However, halfway through the lesson, the brown haired had changed his opinion on the blond. Feliks was sweet, one of the nicest people Toris had ever encountered.

It wasn't that strange that the Lithuanian found himself falling in love in between the gossip, make-up sessions and chats about everything and nothing in particular. He didn't care that Feliks was different from other people. If anything, that was his charm. That he sometimes insisted on wearing a skirt and high heels and that almost everything he surrounded himself with, was either pink or very cute, didn't bother Toris either. Toris loved Feliks for who he was.

Over the months, the Lithuanian had not shown Feliks his secret hideout yet. The library was his little secret, a bit like a sanctuary. Whenever he felt down or needed some peace, he would run there after school and just read. But today, Toris had decided that he would show Feliks his special place. It was all part of his plan. His plan that would eventually mean that he was going to confess to Feliks.

At first, it had seemed like a crazy idea to do that. All sorts of questions were running through the brunet's mind when he had decided that he wanted to tell Feliks about how he felt. _What if Feliks didn't like him back? What if Feliks would laugh at him? What if…_ But then, slowly, the shy boy had gotten used to the idea of spilling his secret. No longer could he walk around with this feeling inside of him. Every time his blond friend touched him, smiled at him or hugged him, the little brunet felt warm and fuzzy inside. It was only a matter of time before Feliks would find out.

It had been easy to convince the Pole to join his friend this afternoon. Heck, Toris didn't even have to convince Feliks. He just asked if the blond was interested of going to his special hideout together, and the cheerful boy had started jumping around from excitement, swirling his friend around. Yes, Toris thought smiling, Feliks was easy to get excited.

Before entering the library, Toris wanted to remind his frivolous friend that he had to be quiet in the Chamber of Many Books, but decided against it. Surely Feliks could manage to remember that himself? Once inside, the Lithuanian was met by the ever familiar scent of old paper and leather. The woman behind the desk smiled at him. There was no one else there and Toris tugged Feliks into his favourite corner, where no one could easily spot them and no one would bother them.

"So, this is, like, the best hideout ever", Feliks whispered as they sat down, looking around and admiring the many books that were collecting dust on the shelves. "I can, like, totally understand that you would spend, like, all of your time. It's so quiet." Toris nodded and looked at Feliks. "Why didn't you show me this earlier?" The question surprised the Lithuanian a little. But it was the perfect sentence to start with his confession.

"Because it's special", he murmured, starting to blush. "Just like you." He felt so much relief after speaking those words.

"Aww, you're special to me, too, Toris. You're like, totes my bestie", Feliks answered, pulling the brunet into his arms. A little bit disappointed, but not surprised, Toris shook his head.

"That's not what I meant." Feliks looked at him, head crooked.

"No?" Toris shook his head once again and motioned for the blond to come closer, as if he was going to whisper into Feliks' ear. But instead of speaking, he just very gently and shyly pressed his lips onto Feliks' glossed ones. Because he had his eyes closed, Toris couldn't see the marvellous blush that had started to form on Feliks' skin.

"I love you", the brunet whispered, waiting for his friend to respond.

"I love you, too."


	13. Forbidden Fruit

_Name:_ Forbidden Fruit

 _Pairing:_ England x Ireland

 _Requested by:_ Guest

 _Word count:_ 745 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ We can never be together kiss

Forbidden Fruit

Arthur was a little angel. He was responsible for the communication between heaven and hell. If that sounds strange to you, well, it was. You'd think that worst enemies would not need to communicate. However, since God had a lot of discussions with the Devil and he also needed to talk about important matters from time to time, he had a group of angels who delivered letters to the Devil. Naturally, the Devil had his share of demons who would deliver letters to god.

Our hero of the story enjoyed his work. Because the two almighty powers had so much to discuss, he was always on the run, delivering the papers. This way, he was able to see many parts of the two dimensions. Since Arthur was a curious angel, it was just the right job for him. But let's talk about the predicament he found himself in at this moment. Arthur had fallen in love. Now, it was not uncommon for angels to fall in love. It happened more often than you'd think. But, Arthur had not fallen in love with another angel. No, the object of his desire was the young demon that was responsible for the letters that were addressed to God. She also was the one to bring the letters, that Arthur had delivered, to her own employer, the Devil.

Somewhere along the way, Arthur had noticed how lovely her red hair shimmered in the light of the hell fires, how her skin seemed whiter than his own tunic, how soothing her voice was whenever she thanked him for his hard work. If the blond angel hadn't known better, he'd say she was one of his own kind. And this is where his problem is shown. Demons and angels are not supposed to fall in love. They are enemies and therefore not be lovers. It was strictly forbidden by the two almighty rulers of the realms of the afterlife.

Sadly, Arthur was not the only one who was plagued by feelings. The little demon had also noticed how the blond of the angel's hair looked like gold whenever the sunlight caressed it, how soft his feathers on his wings seemed and how beautiful his blush looked on his fair skin. Once she knew for sure that the other also shared the feeling of interest, she started the offensive. Every time the angel would fly into the other dimension, she would flirt with him, use her body to tempt him and lick her lips to draw attention to her mouth. The little demon loved the way the shy angel responded, blush creeping over his cheeks and words tumbling out of his mouth.

But both of them were aware of the situation they had at hand. It was impossible for them to be together. When they would touch for longer than a few seconds, their skins would start to burn. Not a little bit, now, as if they were roasting alive. It was painful, it seemed as if thousands of knives were being stabbed into their skin at the same time the imaginary flames were licking their flesh. If someone would get word of their feelings for the other, both the demon and the angel would be in grave trouble.

Nonetheless, their love could not be stopped. Both of them longed for the chances to see each other, impatiently waiting for the next letter to be sent out. With every letter received, their desire would increase. Until it reached the stage of no return.

It was on a quiet afternoon and Arthur had just delivered a long letter. No one else was around, just the little demon that he had grown so fond of. They had been flirting and tempting each other all the time and he could feel the prickling of his skin, the desire to touch the forbidden fruit. He could imagine now how Eve must have felt when they encountered the snake in the garden, tempting her to eat the fruit. The demon's lips were so seductive, so pretty, so kissable.

"Ailene", he whispered. Her green eyes sparkled in the light of the fires that were raging somewhere behind her. He didn't want to wait. He wanted to taste.

Neither of them would be able to describe to you how their kiss tasted. How it felt. But both of them knew, that the kiss told them clearly, that they could never be together. No matter how much they craved that.


	14. Taste of Hope

_Name:_ Taste of hope

 _Pairing:_ South Korea x fem!Philippines

 _Requested by:_ WanderlustedInsanity

 _Word count:_ 425 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ War's End Kiss

Taste of hope

Cameras flashed, hands were shaken and papers were signed. The two parties had come to an agreement and the war was over. The soldiers were going home; they would see their families again. However, Yong Soo did not see or notice any of this. He was kept in a hospital, somewhere quiet and shielded away from the noises of the outside world. During the war, he had been hurt terribly and he couldn't handle all the sounds and flashes that filled other people's daily lives. Now that the streets were safer, he would be able to get visitors. If they had survived…

His mind wandered to his younger darling. When the war had started, she had been 16 years old. A very lively, beautiful lady at the swell of her adulthood, ready to blossom. He hadn't seen her in weeks. They had written each other throughout the war, while he was at the front. In her letters, he could still read out her sarcasm, her sharp mindedness and her bluntness that others sometimes took for rude behaviour. However, Louisa was one of the most loving people Yong Soo knew.

But the young Korean couldn't help but wonder if his Philippian lover had survived the very fierce battles that had scarred the city the past weeks. Bombs had been raining down, bullets were flying around and death had been everywhere. The memory of the violence he had witnessed, he felt sick and very tired. Searching for a way to ban those thoughts, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep not long after.

The sound of footsteps that were rushing down the halls woke him. It didn't take very long for the disturber to open the door to his room, to Yong Soo's surprise. Before he could open his eyes, he felt the woman fall onto his chest, sobs reaching his ears.

"It's over. It's over. We're free. Oh my god, it's over. You're alive, I'm alive. It's over", she said, while tears fell onto his bandages and skin. "Yong Soo… My love, I missed you so much. Why are you such an idiot? Why didn't you come home? But you're alive!" To stop her from rambling more, the male grabbed her chin and pulled her face upwards, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

"I am. So let me kiss you, for I have longed for doing that ever since I parted on that cloudy morning."

Their lips met, a soft touch that spoke of all the horrors they had lived through, of pain and sadness. But it tasted like the new hope that was starting to grow in the hearts of the people of the country, that was finally free.


	15. While we are dancing

_Name:_ While we are dancing

 _Pairing:_ Spain x Austria

 _Requested by:_ Bajo la farola

 _Word count:_ 797 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Seductive kiss

While we are dancing

The room was almost completely dark, only lit by a single candle, that cast beautiful shadows over the stern face opposite from him. Spain knew that Austria wasn't very pleased with his effort to seduce his husband. The brunet would rather be working or playing his piano, instead of standing in their shared bedroom. His arms were crossed and his mouth was just a thin line, brows furrowed. If the Spaniard was wishing to claim him tonight, he would have to work for it.

Gentle hands made their way around the slim waist the Austrian was so proud of. No matter how much Torte he ate, he would stay slender and beautiful. The Spaniard agreed with him on that. Yes, Austria was the object of his desire and managed to stir him in ways unknown to the country of Passion. Every second of the day he found himself staring at the slender male that had somehow become his husband. Whether Austria was playing the piano, working on documents, baking cake or simply reading a book, Spain was fascinated. He wanted to show his fascination to the other, he wanted to claim that wonderful body.

Pressing soft kisses to Austria's cheek, jaw and neck, he started to caress the sides of his husband, making the smaller nation shiver in his arms and arch into the touch. Spain smirked. This wasn't the best he could do. Grabbing one of the slender hands that seemed to be made for playing the piano, Spain spun the lithe man around and pulled him in his arms, turning to start dancing.  
"Pretend you are listening to _Edelweiss_ while we are dancing", he murmured, pulling the other closer as they started to move together. The imaginary sound of the violin managed to send shivers down Spain's back, a content smile settling on his lips.

After a few rounds, he let his forehead rest against the fair skin of his husband, looking deep into his eyes. Slowly, he let his lips touch Austria's. Their kiss started off slowly, just gentle touches that seemed very shy. As the imaginary orchestra started to increase the volume of the song, their kiss increased, getting hungry and needy. Spain's hands were travelling down Austria's back, feeling every part of the skin, hidden underneath the firm fabric of his coat. He massaged on the sides of the brunet's spine, raking his nails with just enough pressure to make it seem as if they were barely touching him. Becoming impatient, he took off the beautiful dress coat, so that it was easier to feel his lover underneath his hands respond to the touch.

Looking deeply into his eyes again and braking their kiss, Spain suddenly grabbed Austria's ass, squeezing his cheeks and drawing a smothered moan from him. A smirk appeared on the taller male's lips, before he brought them back to his favourite place to taste more of Austria. Gently nibbling, the green-eyed male asked for permission to explore. After a few moments of teasing, Austria opened his mouth and was overwhelmed by the swift movements of his partner's tongue.

It was gentle, yet demanding. Slow circles in combination with fluttery fingers that were moving all across his body, only stopping from time to time to squeeze his ass again, making him moan, were enough to make him want so much more than Spain was giving him. The blue-eyed male gave up his resistance and pushed against the Spaniard, pulling him closer by jerking on his collar, deepening the kiss more by tilting his head slightly. Austria closed his eyes and sighed into the kiss, letting his own hands wander. They started at the broad chest he used as a pillow at night, moved upwards to Spain's jaw, over his shoulders, into his neck and finally tangling in the soft locks on his head. They didn't stay there for a long time, for Spain's tongue was coaxing the Austrian to give him more.

He removed his slender fingers from the brown hair, only to put them in the small of Spain's back and let them roam from there. Upwards, along the spine, onto the shoulders once more, digging into the hidden skin whenever Spain let is teeth graze over Austria's lower lip. One particular bite, this one a little harder than the others, made the brunet dig his nails deeply into the fabric and skin, and Spain was sure there would be little marks there the next day. Grabbing the small male's firm ass once more, he squeezed and then hoisted the musician into his arms, feeling Austria's long legs cling to his waist as he moved them to his bed. There, their dance would continue for the rest of the evening, until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

This was a little difficult to write. I just am not very good at writing something seductive and sexy, so I hope this was good enough...

Also, did you notice? I spoiled you all today with 4 oneshots *gasps*

~Hana


	16. Operation Libia Oris

On Christmas day, Hana gave to me: 7 Chapter updates (or, when you only read Kisses, 6)! Merry Christmas everyone, and I hope you enjoyed your day so far. I decided not to follow my list of requests in order this time, but just pick out six kisses that I thought were nice to write for Christmas, something cute and fluffy, instead of angst or something like that. So, if you requested something a few days ago and it's not here, don't worry, I will write it later this week (probably)

~Hana

* * *

 _Name:_ Operation Labia Oris

 _Pairing:_ England x Canada

 _Requested by:_ Boja la Farola

 _Word count:_ 800 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ French kiss

There was a tension in the air whenever Arthur was around Matthew. Everyone could see it, the way they looked at each other, looking away shyly and sometimes even blushing when their gazes met, the way they'd seem like they would touch each other but not doing it in the end. The way the two of them would talk and just get stuck in the conversation if one of them smiled in a particular happy way… Everyone could see that they had a thing for the other. Except for Arthur and Matthew themselves.

So, their friends, Francis and Alfred, had come up with a plan. It had started out innocently, the two were just talking about how Arthur and Matthew just didn't seem to be able to get anywhere, even though they both complained about how in love they were all the time. At some point, Francis had decided that he, together with his American friend, would have to team up and become partners in crime, starting operation " _Labia Oris_ ". The plan was simple. They would host a Christmas party and have the two stand under the mistletoe. That was, until Alfred pointed out, that neither of them would have the, as he called it, 'balls' to do it.

"Well, that's not something a little wine, gin and tequila won't be able to help", Francis responded with a knowing smile, he was usually the one who would pick up the Brit after drinking. And boy, you don't want to hear what he tells Francis about Matthew. All the things he wants to do to the Canadian. In such details it makes it seem like he is writing the script for an adult movie instead of talking about his crush. So, making Arthur kiss Matthew while they were tipsy, was not too much of a challenge.

Nothing proved to be more difficult. Getting them tipsy was easy. As soon as Francis mentioned the drinks they had in stock, Arthur made his way to the kitchen, hungry for a drink. Matthew joined him, feeling too uncomfortable and needing something to loosen up. The alcohol was flowing generously and soon all four of them were not completely sober anymore, making weird jokes, singing and shouting and being very odd all together. Even Matthew joined in with a few dirty jokes, making Arthur look like a traffic light when the Canadian winked suggestively at the Brit.

The night carried on and Francis was starting to lose all hope. There was no way to get these two to the mistletoe without making it seem suspicious. For a brief moment, the Frenchman considered asking his fellow brother-in-arm to set the example for their two friends, but discarded the idea as soon as he looked at his friend, beer in his hand. With a sigh, he prepared himself to get up, about to grab more booze, but Arthur beat him to it.

The Brit was on his feet with a smooth motion, as if there was no drop of alcohol in him. Without a word, Matthew followed after him and they walked towards the kitchen, out of sight from the host and their mutual friend.

"Psst, Al. How are we going to get these two underneath the mistletoe? I mean, until now, none of us have kissed underneath that thing. And, I'm sorry, mon amie, but I do not fancy kissing you tonight…" The American seemed to agree, grunting before responding.

"Yeah, I kinda see your point. It's really difficult. Those two are just all blushy-blushy all night, staring at each other, but no kissing whatsoever." He groaned, letting himself flop onto his back. "I don't know what I'd prefer, them making out in front of me, or that sexual tension the whole night…" The Frenchman nodded, looking into nothingness.

The two friends sat there in silence for a while, waiting for the other half of the quartet to return. When it took Arthur and Matthew longer than they expected, Francis got worried. After ten minutes, he stood up to check on the Brit and the Canadian. Alfred followed, not wanting to stay alone. In the kitchen, they stumbled upon something they had not expected.

Arthur was holding Matthew tight, gripping his ass, both of them had their eyes closed. Cheeks were flushed and their hair was a complete mess. Matthew let his hands travel up to Arthur's shoulders, digging his nails into the flesh through Arthur's clothes, making the Brit moan into their open mouth kiss. Their tongues were touching, involved in their own little love game. It surprised Alfred and Francis even more, when Matthew slung his right leg around Arthur's, bringing them even closer together.

"I prefer the sexual tension", Alfred whispered to Francis, before they made their way back to the living room.

* * *

A/N: Libia Oris is the latin name for the human lips.


	17. Christmas Morning

_Name:_ Christmas Morning

 _Pairing:_ Germany x Italy

 _Requested by:_ We lied about the cookies

 _Word count:_ 126 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Good morning kiss

The curtains were still closed, the warmth of the blanket kept them sleepy. Neither of them had a clue what time it was. Both of them couldn't care less about what time it was, today, they would sleep in. The house was silent, the world outside was muffled by the snow that had fallen over night. Slowly, they were waking up. Snuggling closer, the smaller of the two searched for more warmth, for affection. Skin touched skin, breaths going in sync, hearts beating slowly after their night's rests. Everything was peaceful. Italy reached up to Germany's face and stole a kiss, eyes half closed, still barely awake. Savouring the taste of Italy's lips, Germany thought that this was how he wanted to spend his Christmas morning.


	18. Damsel in Distress

_Name:_ Damsel in Distress

 _Pairing:_ Russia x Canada

 _Requested by:_ Taeras

 _Word count:_ (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Shy kiss

"Ivaaaan!" The little Russian perked up at the sound of the small blond boy that lived next to him. They had been friends for a little while and they got along really well. Even though Matthew found Ivan scary in the beginning, the tall blond had continued talking to the Canadian, winning his shy heart over word by word. After starting to trust Ivan, Matthew discovered that his tall neighbour was anything but scary. In fact, he was just as shy as Matthew, afraid of getting hurt and standing out. They would play together every day, in the woods, pretending they were fearsome warriors who had come to save the day.

Sometimes, Alfred, Matthew's stepbrother, would join them, but he was loud and always insisted he had to be the hero, saying that Matthew had to be the damsel and Ivan was the bad guy. Matthew didn't like it when Alfred made him play the damsel, because Alfred would be rough and wild, unlike Ivan. The Canadian thought that his friend would probably be more careful, judging by the pained look on his face whenever they played with Alfred together.

Curious to find out, Matthew had now come up with a plan.

"Ivan! Let's play damsel and knight again!", he called once more, grabbing the Russians attention.

"But, what about Alfred? I don't like playing with Alfred, he is always loud", Ivan murmured, his smile fading, thinking about the last time they had played with the American and his yelling had caused him a headache.

"No, we'll play without Alfred. No stupid stepbrothers allowed!" Okay, that was a bit harsh, Matthew had to admit. He did like his brother. But sometimes he was just too much.

"Okay." The Russian's smile returned again, making Matthew feel a strange flutter in his chest.

They played and played, the fight with the dragon was fierce and Ivan almost lost when he fell over a root that stuck out of the ground. But what kind of knight would he be if he couldn't handle a dragon to save a damsel? At last, the dragon was slain and the brave warrior made his way to the treehouse where the princess had been held captive.

"Oh, my brave knight", Matthew giggled, a blush spreading over his face. This was more fun than playing with Alfred.

"My lady, I have come to rescue you, da?", Ivan said, his cheeks bright red. He was fumbling with his stick, err, trusty sword as he looked at the princess in front of him. Matthew was a pretty princess, a scarf wrapped around his blond locks which was supposed to be a veil.

"Thank you very much. Would you like a reward?" While asking, Matthew made a courtesy, bowing his head to the knight.

"A kiss." Ivan's voice was only a little whisper, but the words made both of them blush. The princess opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but he closed it again. Then, slowly, Matthew leaned towards Ivan, closing his eyes and puckering his lips.

Matthew's lips felt soft and a little wet on his warm and flushed cheek. It was nice. Instead of giving a kiss back or wiping his cheek, Ivan hugged Matthew and let his breath escape.

"That was nice", he said softly, tickling Matthew's ear with his breath.

"Yeah." The two boys stood there just a little longer, enjoying the hug. Perhaps they would play Damsel in Distress more often from now on.


	19. The Night it all began

_Name:_ The night it all began

 _Pairing:_ Germany x France

 _Requested by:_ ILoveSprinklesOnMyToast

 _Word count:_ 452 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Surprised kiss

The Night it all began

In the past years, Germany and France had become more close. Their bosses got along very well, which lead to a lot of meetings between the two countries. If you asked them now how things had started to develop, neither of them would be able to give you an answer. They'd tell you: It just happened.

Germany does remember that one time when he noticed that France was actually very handsome. Of course, the other countries, as well as France himself, had often said that he was handsome. But it wasn't until that one day, that Germany had realised _how_ handsome that was. The way the blonde locks fell down and framed his face, the way the room seemed to sparkle whenever he smiled, the way everything seemed to still whenever Germany looked at his fellow country. Yes, France was very _very_ beautiful.

Now, since Germany was a very stern and strict country, who "had not time for idle feelings", noting happened between the Frenchman and himself. Not until the two of them went out for a few drinks after one of their bosses' private meetings about another law that was about to pass in the European Union. During their night out, Germany may or may not have been a little drunk. And Francis may or may not have been in a particular talkative mood that day, annoying the German with his chatter. And because of Germany's possible intoxicated state, he may or may not have pressed his lips to France's ever talking pair, which may or may not have led to a very surprised French nation. He might have just stared at the large Germanic nation, blue eyes wide, lips slightly parted, a blush perhaps forming on his cheeks. Possibly, Germany had thought that the red suited France very well. It wouldn't be a surprise if they had kissed once more after that, but this time the kiss might have been more daring with more pressure, more feelings flooding into the other through their lips. They may or may not have held hands and shared a kiss or two from time to time for the rest of the night. Who knows?

What happened after that possible night out, was a rollercoaster. They met more often, they went out together on dates; fancy dinners or just going to a bar, taking a stroll in the local park or watching a movie. Somewhere among those dates, they ended up in the same bed. And somewhere, among those days they spent together, they became a couple. But how it all started, they wouldn't be able to tell you, because that night when it all began, that night surprised both of them way too much.


	20. Girls' night out

_Name:_ Girls' night out

 _Pairing:_ Belgium x Ukraine

 _Requested by:_ A Guest who didn't tell me their name

 _Word count:_ 485 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Giggly kiss

It was their girls' night out. Elizabeta, Emma, Kateryna, Lily and for once Kateryna's sister Natalya joined them. Most of the times, they would drink, chat, gossip and laugh at the bar, making fun of the people on the dancefloor. Sometimes, Elizabeta and Emma would get up and dance if there was a good song playing, but most of the times they just talked.

Kateryna didn't mind that. She wasn't very good at dancing and she didn't enjoy it either, for some reason she was always stared at. So, the Ukrainian woman just observed the people in the bar. Tonight, however, seemed to be different from all their other nights out. Not only had Natalya decided to join them, her sister had dragged the equally shy Lily out on the dance floor, much to Elizabeta's delight. Right now, the small blonde was dancing very close to Natalya, their eyes locked and cheeks blushing. A lot of people were looking at the two, Kateryna noticed.

Emma had decided not to dance tonight and just drink with Kateryna. The short haired woman didn't mind, she enjoyed the Belgian's company. It was a lot of fun with her and the Ukrainian may or may not have had a little romantic interest in the blonde. A nod of the head from the petite girl made Kateryna look back to the dancefloor. She was just in time to see her sister gently kissing the small female she was holding in her arms, both blushing madly. The red on their cheeks seemed to be contagious, for it spread to Kateryna's cheeks as well.

"Looks like fun", Emma shouted, a devilish smirk playing around her lips. "Want to try it?" Kateryna didn't know whether it was the alcohol, the situation or just the way Emma looked at her, but she agreed. They leaned towards each other, gazes meeting and blush spreading. Just before their lips touched, Kateryna couldn't help but giggle. This caused Emma to smile, and Kateryna giggled more. Soon, both of them were giggling, heads close together, lips almost touching. The short haired decided to take the lead, which scared her grandly, and start the kiss. Shortly after their lips met, the two girls had to part again, laughter still spilling from their lips, happiness pooling in their stomachs. The feeling was addicting, so they gently kissed again, which lead to more giggling and fluttery feelings in their bodies. They continued kissing and giggling, until they were drunk with the feeling, cheeks cutely flushed and eyes glimmering.

"It is fun", Kateryna finally breathed out when they leaned back, trying to catch their breath.

"Hmh", Emma mused, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It is." For the rest of the night, they continued to look at each other, giggle and kiss, drinking their drinks and looking at people. For Kateryna, this was one of the best nights in her life.


	21. Peaceful Morning

_Name:_ Peaceful morning

 _Pairing:_ Norway x Iceland (Brotherly)

 _Requested by:_ Guest who wanted to stay anonymous

 _Word count:_ 358 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Kiss on the forehead

Peaceful morning

With more excitement you'd expect in a moody teen, Emil jumped out of bed and made his way downstairs. Once he was in the kitchen, a big smile crept onto his usually seemingly emotionless face. There was snow! Eager to get outside and trample on the flawless white, making it littered with footprints, the blond rushed into the hallway, pulling out his winter coat and snow boots, putting the two items on without taking of his pyjamas. He had been waiting all month for this.

Outside, he jumped right into the snow, sinking into the white fluffy mess halfway up his shins. It was a wonderful feeling to stomp down the driveway, into the garden, leaving little marks that proved who had walked here. His cheeks started to flush a pretty red, nose dripping and eyes tearing. Emil didn't care, he just loved snow and the feeling of the cold wind caressing his cheeks.

Meanwhile, inside the house, Lukas had awoken as well and walked downstairs, more gentle and refined than his younger brother had done minutes before him. With a cup of coffee pressed to his cold hands, slippers on his feet and bed hair for days, the older one watched the smaller one ravish their garden with his feet. It was a funny sight. The wind was jerking on Emil's hair, playing with his pyjama bottoms that were starting to get wet from all the snow that he sent flying with his feet. Soon, Lukas knew, his brother would come back inside, shivering from the cold, but satisfied.

It took the younger exactly 12 minutes to get cold and shivery, enough time for Lukas to make coffee and get breakfast ready. When the sound of feet stomping off white flocks had faded away and Emil had walked into the kitchen, Lukas greeted his little brother with a very rare kiss to his forehead.

"Good morning", Emil murmured and took the coffee mug. They then sat down at the table and enjoyed a gentle morning, looking at the snow that had started to fall shortly after they had begun their morning routine. Everything was peaceful that day.

* * *

 **A little message for the Guest that requested this (and in general):** Of course you can request other pairings with this. I don't mind writing anything, just ask me. I wil write for this series until either I grow tired or the readers grow tired, so... Hit me up.

I also want to state here, that I'd prefer it if you'd ask me things via an account, like reviews and such. When someone posts a review as a guest, I can't respond to it, so I can't ask about things I want to know, such as OCs and AUs.

~Hana


	22. Serende of Anger

_Name:_ Serenade of anger

 _Pairing:_ Austria x Prussia

 _Requested by:_ Astrid Dalgaard

 _Word count:_ 666 (Story only) [Devilish]

 _Kiss:_ Angry kiss

Serenade of Anger

The piano softly filled the room with beautiful notes, a melody gently forming. The sound was soothing to Prussia. He had known it for many years now, having lived with the man behind the instrument for about 50 years. But he knew that it was just a mask. If you were to look at the artist, you'd see that his hands were trembling and his jaw was clenched, shoulders a bit too stiff. And it was his fault. Once again, he had been insensitive. He had not thought about what his words would do to the other.

Darker tones started to mingle with the higher notes, disturbing the peaceful melody, turning it into a Serenade of anger, showing more of the emotion the performer tried to hide. Guilt stabbed the albino, twisting like a knife in his heart. He wanted to apologise. Show the other that he didn't mean what he had said about his baking skills. But he didn't dare to.

When the song became more powerful, louder, making the house tremble and sending shivers down Prussia's spine, he couldn't hide any longer. Gently opening the door, trying not to disturb the chocolate brown haired male behind the beautiful black instrument, he walked in. His palms felt sweaty, his breath came out in little shards, feeling sharp in his lungs and throat. His brain was racing, thinking of words to say. The melody became more fragmented, only low sounds vibrating through the room, resonating in his chest. He felt so guilty, oh so guilty.

Why could he never shut up? Why did he always need to prove himself? Because of how he was, he had once again hurt his dear lover. The man was now slamming the white and black keys, letting his frustration out. His fingers were starting to hurt, pressure and age starting to take their turn. Prussia knew that Austria could no longer play as much as he wanted, which led to more frustrations for the strict nation. The brunet flinched when he pressed one key a little too vigorously and the other decided that this needed to stop.

Moving away from the wall he had been resting against, he walked over to the slender man behind the gigantic instrument. He ignored the glare that was sent his way when he arrived at the black chair, grabbing the pale hands that were almost abusing the instrument. Neither of them spoke, they just looked at each other. Austria's eyes were filled with rage, still not calmed down from their heated argument before he had disappeared into his favourite room. Prussia's eyes were flooding with melancholy and guilt, feeling bad for what he had done and wanting to change it.

The red eyed male still held onto the slender utensils the other used for creating the most beautiful music he had ever heard. Slowly, he leant forward, intending to bring their lips together. Austria had cast his gaze, lips a straight line that showed his now tempered anger. When they touched nothing seemed to happen at first. No melting against each other, not arms snaking around his neck. But no stomping, hitting or pushing away either. Altogether, the kiss took Prussia by surprise. He had expected the other to do anything, but not nothing.

Suddenly, he felt Austria's nimble hands cling to his shirt, locking the fabric in between his slender digits with a grip stronger than you'd ever expect from the little male. The almost purple eyes were flaming and his lips were now pressing against his shirt with much force, while he was pushed away, Austria getting up and following. They only halted when Prussia's back was pressed against the cool wooden door, his bones being pushed against it, causing him pain. The feeling only sparked their kiss, and soon they were furiously pressing their lips together, eyes still showing their anger and guilt. This would end roughly, Prussia though just before Austria moved his one hand lower to the other's belt.

* * *

Hey everyone, I hope you had a lovely New Years and I hope you all managed to get into the New Year safely. I'm kind of missing in action, a bit stressed out and just at a loss what to write, so I'm sorry if it takes a while for me to write your stories and chapters for Teenage Dream... Please don't be angry with me.

~Hana


	23. Gunshots

Inspired by smoking-tulips Maffia AU and the prompt from one or another writing blog (I couldn't find it any more later on) which was: Start a story with gunshots.

* * *

 _Name:_ Gunshots

 _Pairing:_ France x Canada

 _Requested by:_ Guest Margaret

 _Word count:_ 873 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ I almost lost you kiss

Gunshots

Gunshots were echoing through the streets, waking the people living in the houses alongside the asphalt snake. The shooters were hiding behind cars, trash bins and other obstacles that would shield them from the iron drops that were sent flying horizontally by the weapons. A blond male with long, blonde hair, had crawled behind one of the low walls that separated the lush green in the garden from the dull grey of the streets. His weapon had lost its filling, all of it ordered somewhere down the street, trying to find their opponent, but failing every time. The bullets seemed to have their own will, always landing anywhere but in between the lovely pale flesh of the other.

Meanwhile, the other kept firing the hot bullets, sending them away to kill the blond. One of them found followed a path that swayed close to the man hiding behind the brick. He could hear the shell fly by. At this rate, the other was going to get him. The blond desperately needed to get away from his hiding place, escape, since he had no more ammunition left. It would only be a matter of minutes, before his opponent would find out.

The blond male dreaded his decision to go out at night, into the hostile territory of the Nordic family. His own family, the powerful European family, was on not so friendly terms with the other gang, led by a charismatic Dane, who called himself the King of the North. Most people would have expected his Norwegian partner to be the head of the family, mainly because of his ability to seem rather cold and uncaring. Francis knew better than that. Sure, the Norwegian was a ruthless killer, he was a tough fighter. But he also was a man who rather followed orders than gave them.

That he was a tough fighter, was proven again tonight. The Dane's experienced right hand had noticed the Frenchman walking in their territory and had started the gunfight. It seemed that the other Nordics were out of town, because neither the scary, small Finn, nor the tall Swede, nor the just as stoic and beautiful younger Icelandic born younger brother of the Norwegian had joined the fight. And Francis had heard that the Dane was currently working on a deal with the Germanic family.

Footsteps tore the Frenchman away from his thoughts, a figure settling next to him seconds later, gunshots again filling the air close to them again. Glancing to the man that had drawn his gun and aimed for the Norwegian now, Francis couldn't help but let a smile creep to his face. His saviour was Matthew, one of the newer members Arthur and Francis had recruited. The Canadian had found his way into the family with his American cousin, Alfred. Right now, they were under the Frenchman's and Briton's protection.

Before the Frenchman could whisper anything in thanks, he was surprised by a sudden push against his chest. His whole chest felt like it was numb, so he didn't notice the blood that started to spill out of the wound, he didn't feel the grass underneath him or the worried hands that were roaming his chest now. Francis felt like going to sleep. The pressure against his ribcage was pushing the air out of his lungs and his whole body was tense. His vision started to get blurry and he felt cold. Matthew was talking to him, he heard that. But he failed to grasp which words were ringing in his ears. Sleep…

Loud sobs finally woke him and the first thing he felt was something heavy lying on his chest. He wanted to open his eyes, look at what was pressing down on his stomach, but his muscles didn't obey him. When Francis opened his eyes and flicked them down, he saw a familiar mess of long locks, surrounded by white and soft blue fabric. Confused, he moved his gaze around and he noticed a lot of white, strange things that made a lot of noise, things attached to him and… Was he in a hospital?

The blond that was resting on his stomach, still sobbing, noticed a change in the breathing of his human pillow and he looked up, eyes red behind the glasses he was wearing, dark circles sticking out on the beautiful young skin. Streaks of salt on his cheeks, that were rosy from emotion.

"Francis!" Before the called upon man could process what could happen, his lips were captured in a bruising, harsh kiss. He felt wetness on his skin, and when he was released from the kiss, he noticed that Matthew was crying again.

"I thought I'd lost you… You've been asleep for five days, they said it'd be a miracle if you lived. God, I'm so happy you're here."

And once again, his response was stolen from him by lips, this time gentler, but not less pleasant. Later, Matthew was surely going to explain why exactly Francis had been sleeping so long, why the Canadian had cried so much and why he was being kissed right now. Right now, he just wanted to savour the moment, enjoy the feeling of lips against his and hands in his hair.


	24. Lingering taste of wine

_Name:_ Lingering taste of wine

 _Pairing:_ Ancient Rome x China

 _Requested by:_ Guest Red and Gold

 _Word count:_ 497 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Returned from the dead kiss

Lingering taste of wine

Soft music found its way to his sensitive ears, the gentle melody sending shivers down his spine. A flash of light blinded him as the sunlight trickled through the flush green leaves of the olive trees. The sweet scent of summer danced in his nose and made him high on the feeling of happiness. China sighed and relaxed his tensed muscles, letting the sun warm him.

A familiar voice made him turn around quickly, eyes wide with shock. Could it be true?

"Roma…", he whispered, dark eyes filling with tears. In front of him, more beautiful and strong than ever before, was his long lost lover, magically returning to him after all these years. Everyone had thought the handsome, powerful man had disappeared, had vanished. But here he was, breathing and pulsing with blood and longing. Slowly, the brunet spread his arms, inviting the Chinese nation to fall into them. Letting the tears he had been holding back flow, the slender country with ink like hair ran towards his sweetheart, feet making soft tapping sounds on the ground.

The arms he had mentally called his home for ages had not lost their warm, safe feeling. Overwhelmed by the nostalgic feeling, China let his guard drop, slumping against the heavy chest and letting out a sigh. Even the scent of wine, warmth and olives that the other had always carried with him, sometimes spiked with oregano, was the same. It felt so nice. So wonderful.

China shivered when he felt the other shift his hand, moving it towards the pale skin on his cheeks, drawing him in for a kiss. A kiss, so soft and yet passionate, making the Asian nation feel drunk, tasting the wine on his lover's lips. When they broke the kiss and silently embraced each other, the lithe male hoped this would last forever. He felt kisses being pressed to his cheeks, his neck and the Chinese man tilted his head, granting more access to the other. Cold hands found their way underneath his robes, while teeth harshly sunk into his bare skin. That was unusual, China thought, while reaching out for the other's clothes.

Instead, his nimble fingers found skin that at first felt cold to the touch, marbled by scars, rough and plentiful. The dark eyed male flinched he caressed the damaged beauty. When did Roma get so many scars? He opened his eyes and mouth, ready to ask the question, but was instead met with violet eyes and a worried smile from someone he knew very well. Even though he loved the person in front of him, he couldn't do anything about the stab of sadness that he felt in his chest. Roma was still gone, even though it had seemed as if he was back again. It had all been a dream. A wonderful, very realistic dream, he thought, caressing his soft lips, still lingering with the faint taste of wine. Perhaps, perhaps it had not all been a dream.


	25. Together

_Name:_ Together

 _Pairing:_ Denmark x Norway

 _Requested by:_ Dreams-Wishes-Hopes

 _Word count:_ 964 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Kiss on the forehead

Sequel to _Kiss of Mannerheim_

Together

It was dark around him. The only sound reaching his ears was the sound of the wind howling into his ear, making him think wolves had surrounded them. His mind slipped into unconsciousness again. Because of his unconsciousness, he didn't notice the men approaching him and the male lying next to him. Strong, but wounded hands lifted the two almost frozen bodies from their little snow fort. It seemed like a grave. The men exchanged a few words in a tongue the other humans would not be able to understand, had they been awake.

In his dream, Mathias was floating. His tired body was surrounded by fluffy clouds and sunshine embraced him. Strangely, the golden arms were cold, icy cold, almost piercing his skin while he drifted away, towards his comrade that he harboured forbidden feelings for. The Norwegian soldier had intrigued him when they met at the front lines, Molotov cocktail in his hand, stoic expression and hate burning in his eyes, just like the enemy's tank in front of him. Lukas was a beauty, and dangerous. Mathias had instantly been in love. Never in his life would he have hoped to find love among death.

The cold sunlight kept tickling his skin, making the Dane squirm on his cloud. The cloud creaked under his weight and Mathias frowned, not understanding why clouds made noises. Suddenly, the sky he was drifting through, was filled with voices, screams, murmurs and pants, cries and pleads. It was so loud, so scary. He wanted to wake up, get away from that nightmare. He was scared, so scared. The sounds echoed in his head and frightened him, making him toss and turn. The cloud creaked more and a few of the voices became louder and seemingly closer, scaring the poor man even more.

"Oh, god, he's awake. Oh my god, thank you for this miracle. Quick! Someone get me a-" Mathias didn't listen to the voice anymore, he just opened his eyes and stared into the dim light around him. At first, he couldn't see anything. He shivered, teeth clashing against each other, hands rubbing over his arms feverishly. He didn't understand where he was. The only thing he remembered, were the fingers of Death that had gripped his throat, dragging him into the darkness, away from Lukas.

Lukas!

He failed to sit up straight, he was too weak. He breath was irregular, hands shaking, eyes wide. Lukas, where was Lukas? His body seemed to be unable to stop the frantic trembling as he took in the scent of decay, ugly and making him sick. All around him were beds, stretchers, filled with people, screaming agony, groaning and tearing at their bandages. Some of them had lost a limb, others were blue from the cold. Mathias searched with his eyes, lingering on every lump of human on the uncomfortable stretchers, unable to see anything through the blur of tears.

His nose was running and he tried to sniff, only taking the horrid smell. Eyes burning and cheeks getting wet with the tears, he felt panic rise in his chest. Hyperventilating and scared, that was how the nurses found him. He was drugged and sent back to dreams unreal, Lukas laughing at his side, unharmed and beautiful.

When he woke again, his heart was hammering and the tears returned as he once again found himself in the field hospital. _He can't be dead, please, let him be alive._ In his head, he kept repeating the sentence, like a prayer. Nurses were ushering to his bed again, but he didn't want to speak, couldn't speak. His breathing was still irregular and the small women were trying their best to talk to the Dane, which failed horribly because of the language barrier. When they helped him sit up and started to feed him soup, the liquid feeling hot on his still cold lips, he finally spotted the Norwegian soldier.

"Lukas…", he breathed out, blinking fast to prevent the tears from spilling again. The nurse in charge of feeding him looked confused, following the bright blue stare. When she noticed what her patient was looking at, she patted his shoulder and smiled. Somehow, he sensed that the man that had stayed with him in the cold, was okay. They would be fine.

 _1980, forty years later_

"I was so scared I'd lost you back then", he whispered, nuzzling the ever familiar hair in front of him, getting drunk on the smell. "You were so cold, so _so_ cold. I thought you had died that night. I thought we both had died. But here you are, lying next to me." A warm feeling of gratitude washed over Mathias as he looked at Lukas, who was resting in their bed to his right. They had celebrated their anniversary. It had not been much, they had just shared a lovely dinner together, candles and wine, soft music playing in the background. After the Winter War and the Second World War, they had moved out to the Finnish country side, far away from curious and judging eyes, as it had been wrong for two men to be together at that time. They had grown old together in their warm and joyful home, saved each other from night terrors countless times. They had fallen in love and they had fought. But they had done it together. And that was what mattered.

"I love you", Lukas whispered, before pressing a kiss to Mathias' forehead. "Always have, always will." It was a bold statement for him, not something he'd say often. But just for today, he could. Just today, before they both drifted off into dreams, smiles on their faces.

* * *

Okay, this was requested by Dreams-Hopes-Wishes a while back. They didn't specify which kiss they'd like, so I went with this one in the end. And I have to confess, I bawled my eyes out while writing this. I'm so proud of myself that I was able to keep it under 1000 words. Would have loved to make it longer, more angst and everything. Oh well...

~Hana


	26. All alone

_Name:_ All alone

 _Pairing:_ Germany x Italy

 _Requested by:_ Mushyboomba

 _Word count:_ 693 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ I'm sorry kiss

 **WARNING: Depressing story, mentions of suicide and death of a character**

All alone

 _Beep, beep… beep… ... …. Beep…_

It is nerve wrecking. Everyone knows the sound. Everyone has heard it at least once in their life, be it in a movie, on the radio or in the hospital itself. But no one would ever tell you how downright nerve wrecking that sound is. At first, you can handle it. It tells you the person attached to the monitor is still alive, their heart still beating. Yet as the days pass by and the doctors keep running in and out, worried glances shared with the nurses, the sound becomes mocking. A curse.

The man in the bed wasn't awake at the moment. For hours and hours, he had slept, the medication making him weak. For the young man resting in the chair, right beside the patient, it was horrible. They hadn't known how the one in the bed had come to the conclusion, why he had chosen to take the path he had taken. No one could tell him why his beloved had taken the pills, taken the bottles, and had forced the liquid and the harmful substances into his digestive system.

When the phone had shrieked, waking the Italian from his slumber, it had taken him a while to realise that Ludwig was in grave danger. The woman on the phone had tried to explain that it was absolutely necessary for him to come to the hospital. After Feliciano's brain had finally started to work properly, he had wasted no time. Within fifteen minutes, he had been in his car, driving like a maniac to the local hospital and finding the tall German in the bed, eyes closed an unresponsive. His stomach had been emptied, the doctors told him. Now, all he could do was wait until the blue of his eyes would be visible again.

He didn't know how long he had been waiting. The nurses had come in multiple times to check on him and the patient, but Feliciano had lost count after some time, not interested in the women and men walking in, checking various monitors that were connected to the German with wires. The only thing the tired Italian wanted, was his lover back. At some point, he had fallen asleep. In his dream, the two of them were sitting at home, sipping wine and eating pasta while watching a movie. Feliciano was curled against his tall and handsome darling, blanket wrapped around them to set the right mood. They were just happily together, enjoying the moment together.

Ludwig's lips found his and were gently pressed against them. It was a short, tender kiss, saying more than words could. It spoke of the feelings they harboured, of the many things that he had wanted to do together with the Italian.

"I'm sorry", he said, before pulling Feliciano closer, kissing him once more. "I'm so, so sorry for doing this to you. I should have talked to you, should have explained things to you. But it's too late now", Ludwig whispered.

The sound of rushed footsteps and people yelling at each other woke him up. Nurses were running into the room, heading for the bed next to him. Surprised to find that he was in the hospital and not in the living room with Ludwig, Feliciano looked around. He then noticed what had set the medical staff into a hurry. A thin, green line on a screen. Where there should have been highs and lows, there was nothing. Beeping had turned into one monotone sound, filling his ears. It couldn't be true. Panic gripped him as he tried to get up, tried to get to the bed. But a strong nurse took him away, somewhere calm. Somewhere without Ludwig.

Minutes ticked by, scary and unsure. When someone finally joined them and enlightened the Italian, the world seemed to come crashing down. He was alone. Something had gone terribly wrong, they concluded. It was a mistake they had made, he was told. They apologised, some of the nurses cried with him. But nothing helped. Nothing would soothe the pain, nothing could fill what had once been filled by Ludwig. He was all alone.

* * *

This was the 25th story for the series! Wohoo!

~Hana


	27. Birthday date

_Name:_ Birthday date

 _Pairing:_ Austria x Switzerland

 _Requested by:_ A guest who stayed nameless

 _Word count:_ 567 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Angry kiss

Birthday date

What was so amazing about that piano? Why did it get more attention than he did? Was he not good enough? Was he not interesting enough? It wasn't per se that Vash was jealous of the piano. He loved his gun a lot and enjoyed carrying it around, going to the shooting range every once in a while. So he understood that Roderich wanted to play. He was angry. Not because of the piano. But because the Austrian seemed to forget about the world whenever he played. He had forgotten about food that was waiting on the stove multiple times before. Or doing the laundry, dishes, cleaning. He could even forget to feed himself while he was playing. One time, he had fainted after playing for hours straight.

But this time, he had forgotten about their date. It was Vash's birthday and they were supposed to go out for dinner together. The clock had seen six p.m. pass by, seven p.m. and was now closing in on eight p.m. He had waited. Read a book. Read the newspaper, watched television. But nothing happened, Roderich just kept playing. Of course, Vash could have just opened the door and ask the Austrian to get ready. He didn't want to. It had been Roderich's idea, so he would have to be able to remember it himself.

When their grandfather clock chimed eight times, the Swiss closed the book he had been reading with an angry thud. A scowl formed on his face and he stomped to the music room. He would give that stuck up Austrian a piece of his mind, letting him wait. Just as he wanted to open the door and let his emotions flow into the room, his face was almost buried into the hard wood as Roderich opened the portal to his holy chamber.

"Oh, excuse me, Vash. I did not know you were there", he said, apologetic look spreading across his beautiful face. His wonderful and captivating eyes were sliding across Vash's body, taking in the nice and rare view of the blond male in a suit. The brunet licked his lips hungrily, something that would have seemed unfitting to anyone who didn't share a bed with the Austrian.

Before Vash could open his mouth to protest, Roderich had wound his arms around the smaller one, pulling him close and kissing him, lust seeping in through Vash's angry lips.

"You look wonderful, my dear", the Austrian purred into his ear, letting his hands travel south. The Swiss growled something in response, before yanking his lover closer by grabbing his tie, eyes flaming with anger.

"That is because we had agreed to go out and dine together, you stupid idiot", he whispered, breath tickling Roderich's ears. Then, he moved his lips away from the brunet's ears and instead pressed them to the Austrian's biting them harshly and almost drawing blood. His hands were now roaming over the other's body, nails digging meanly into the skin.

"Ouch.. Mhh… Vash..", Roderich breathed out, leaning into the harsh assault. "I think… Hrmm.. We might have to do that another time", he managed to say, bringing a very _hard_ problem to the other's attention. "Let me it up to you"?" Vash gave his answer by pressing their lips a together and biting again, before dragging Roderich out of the room. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad evening after all…


	28. A bouquet of flowers

_Name:_ A bouquet of flowers

 _Pairing:_ Prussia x Canada

 _Requested by:_ Guest who is nameless

 _Word count:_ (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Surprised kiss

A bouquet of flowers

To be honest, he had never done something like this. In his eyes, flowers were something for girls. Something you did not give to a man. Maybe it was a bad idea. Gilbert was not someone who liked it when you made fun of the fact that he was gay. He still considered himself 'manly as hell', he never wore pink and he didn't care whether he looked fabulous or not. So why did Matthew end up buying a colourful bouquet?

With a sigh, he combed through his blond locks, questioning himself why indeed he had stopped at the little flower shop he had encountered on the way home. For once, he had decided to take a different route, wanting to enjoy the lovely spring weather that had awoken in the past weeks and was now stronger than before, lovely temperatures and golden sun present every day. Perhaps spring was indeed the season for love?

He did not have to look for very long in the shop, cool air nipping at his exposed skin. The bouquet just seemed to scream at him, trying to grab his attention, and the Canadian had chuckled. It was kind of like his lover. Loud and boisterous colours, all kinds of shapes and sizes, just like how his moods and personality were. It was perfect. The young woman behind the counter had remarked that it was a perfect bouquet if you were giving it for no reason at all. Matthew had silently agreed with a little nod while pulling out his wallet to pay.

Feeling more and more anxious with every step he took into the building, inching closer to their front door on the third floor, number 32, Matthew searched for words to say when Gilbert would open up their home for him. What if he would be angry? What if he didn't like flowers? Or what if he was actually allergic to them? With a pounding heart, he pressed the button to summon his love, ignoring the keys in his pockets.

When the door opened, red eyes widened in shock. They were glued to the colourful collection of plants in the gentle hands that wiped away tears, tickled mockingly and caressed lovingly. Matthew started to shift his weight from one foot onto the other, feeling the anticipation and nervousness cling to his heart, making it beat heavily. Because he had been looking at anything but his boyfriend, he had failed to notice how the albino had moved his gaze to the Canadian, preparing to launch at the slender male and capture him into a tight hug. Thus, the strong arms around his waist came as a total surprise, just like the lips on his own.

The kiss was wild and spoke of surprise, love and gratefulness. Arms pulled the blond closer against a broad chest, while lips moved away from other lips and down to the jaw and neck, then up to cheeks and a pointy nose. They moved away completely, resting millimetres in front of the face they had just lavished, only to open and close while giving way to words of thanks.

"Thank you, Birdie. I love them. They're beautiful, you are beautiful and I love you!", Gilbert whispered with excitement, before pressing their lips together once more. He could feel a smile tug at Matthew's. From that day on, they would occasionally bring home flowers for the other.


	29. Mornings like this

_Name:_ Mornings like this

 _Pairing:_ Japan x China

 _Requested by:_ Nameless guest

 _Word count:_ 455 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Good morning kiss

Mornings like this

Japan turned around one more time. Usually, he was not a person for lazing around in the morning. He thought it was a waste of time that he could have used for other things, cleaning and grocery shopping, for example. However, today he allowed himself to stay underneath the warm blankets that formed a fluffy shield around him. A tiny hint of a smile graced his lips when he felt two slender arms sneak around his waist. It wasn't like China to be affectionate in the morning. Nor was it like him to stay in bed. Perhaps today would be a day that was not like the other days they spend together. Perhaps they would just cuddle all day, not do anything but lie in bed, make out and, dare he think it, make love.

China mumbled something incoherently into his shoulder, sending warm tickles down his spine. Japan's smile widened. It was nice. Outside, he knew, the snow had been falling for hours, covering his pretty little garden in a coat of virgin white. It also muffled the world around them, as if everything was sleeping in today.

With a content sigh, Japan rolled over again, now facing his lover. The long haired male was still sleeping, eyes closed and mouth open. Small snores escaped from it, sometimes followed by a short silence. The ebony hair was draped around his face and pillow, surely to be a mess when he would awake. Japan didn't care for such trivial things as how hair looked. Altogether, he found that China was the most beautiful nation he knew.

An idea sparked in his mind and he gently reached out to the off-white skin, touching it just underneath the sleeping man's face. Gently, he lifted it with one finger, bringing the resting features closer. Japan felt his heartbeat pick up, blush settling on his face. He never did romantic things like this. He probably had been watching too many of America's romantic comedy movies and sappy soap operas, the nation thought, inching towards China's sleeping lips. Just before his touched the other's, he closed his eyes, as if to enhance the experience.

When their lips gently caressed, the closed off nation felt a warm feeling brush through his chest, only to fade when he broke their kiss. China still seemed to be asleep and the Asian gave himself a few moments to admire his lover a little longer.

"Ohayo, Chugoku-san", he whispered, before resting against the chest he had come to known many, many nights ago. Above him, secretly, China smiled gently, letting out a sigh. Mornings like this were rare, but not less loved by either of them. Though, they would never admit that to the other.

* * *

I am terribly sorry for not updating, my life has been very hectic, deciding what to study and what not. I have quite a few requests left, but I am not sure whether I will write them in order to when they were requested. So, if yours takes a little longer, I apologise for that.

Please be patient with me.

~Hana


	30. Nurse Denmark

Okay, I got a request on tumblr from an anon, who wanted to see a sick Nor, collapsing from fever. I kind of decided it would write it with one of the kisses, since DenNor is really my favourite thing to write and read about when it comes to Hetalia.

* * *

 _Name:_ Nurse Denmark

 _Pairing:_ Denmark x Norway

 _Requested by:_ Anon on tumblr

 _Word count:_ 806 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Kiss on the forehead

Nurse Denmark

He felt horrible. Downright fucked up. As if he was going to die. His throat was so painful, it seemed like needles were pressing into it every second. His head pounded as if someone was kicking and slamming against it, setting off firecrackers inside of his skull. His stomach was empty, but every time he tried to fill it, it acted up, making him run to the nearest toilet or sink. His face was red and heated up, sweat dripping down from his forehead. His hands and whole body were shivering and he had no strength left…

But he didn't let it show. He just kept it hidden, going on with his day while he felt more and more weak. He couldn't let anyone know. Iceland had gone out for the week, hanging out with Hong Kong and Seychelles. Finland and Sweden had decided that Sealand should see the world a little bit, so they had taken him to some godforsaken island. So far, Denmark had not shown up. It had been a few days since the Danish personification had visited him and Norway was feeling a little anxious.

Denmark always seemed to know when he was feeling horrible. Or when he needed a break. Norway had gotten so used to the many, many times that his lover had shown up without any notice in advance, dragging him out to a park, into town or somewhere else to take his mind off of things, that it seemed almost strange to him that the Dane had not invaded his home yet.

It was not the first day he had been sick. Quite frankly, he had been feeling horrible for around five days now. His fever, however, had increased yesterday, he had noticed. Today seemed to be the worst out of the past days, the heat and nausea keeping him tied to his bedroom and bathroom. The tiles felt very cold… Perhaps he could stay here for a bit, sleep… No one would be bothered, right?

A faint voice rung in his ears as he felt hands on his body, tugging him against something warm and steady. A strange beating sound reached him and he tried to open his eyes.

"Oh my god, Norge, you're burning up! Why didn't you call me? You have to stay in bed and not sleep on the floor!" On the floor? Oh, right. He had been searching for something cold after he had once again emptied his stomach into the toilet… But who was holding him right now?

"Geez, always so reckless. I should punish you for that. Not give you any coffee or butter cookies or anything else you like." The voice was loud.

Softness suddenly surrounded him and he felt something rest on his stomach and chest, something wet placed onto his forehead.

"There", the voice whispered and he finally realised it was Denmark's. "You stay here now, I'll take care of you." Even before Denmark had left the room, Norway was asleep again.

When he woke up, he saw Denmark sitting on his office chair. Next to him, there was a bowl of something hot, judging by the swirls of condensation coming from it. It smelled nice and Norway heard his stomach growl. The sound made the Dane open his eyes and smile lightly at Norway, eyes filled with concern and sadness.

"Seems you're awake. Want some?", he asked Norway, gesturing to the bowl. After the patient nodded, Denmark got up and sat down on the bed, bowl and spoon in his hands. The Norwegian huffed, he could do this himself. But his lover was persistent and honestly, it was nice to be fawned over and cared for once in a while.

"Open up", Denmark said softly, holding a spoonful in front of Norway's mouth. His stomach growled again.

It didn't take him long to finish the soup. He had been puking his guts out for the past few days and he had not realised how hungry he had been until the warm liquid had reached his stomach. After the meal, Denmark had told him to sleep again, pressing a kiss to his hot forehead. Then, he had slipped into the bed next to him, offering the sick Norwegian a warm hug and chest to rest against, something that was secretly quite welcome. They fell asleep like that, arms wrapped around each other and hearts beating in synch. The next day, Norway felt slightly better.

It took him another three days until he felt better and five until Denmark left. Every night, he would crawl into his bed to keep him warm and throughout the day, the Dane would cook, clean and take care of his Norwegian lover, calmly and composed for once. And Norway enjoyed it thoroughly, even though he would never let that fall from his mouth.

* * *

I hope you liked it. Feel free to send in more requests, though it might take a while until I answer them and write them. I'm sorry for that.

~Hana


	31. Goodbye

_Name:_ Fate is cruel

 _Pairing:_ England x Scotland

 _Requested by:_ ampotaku

 _Word count:_ (Story only)

 **WARNING: Character death and gore (accident happening). Be warned**

 _Kiss:_ We can never be together kiss

There had been an accident. Three cars were involved. Two of them had caught on fire. There were seven people involved. Two other ambulances were on the way, as well as a helicopter. That was all he knew. Not how badly people were hurt, whether there were children or not. He knew that the police had already barricaded the road, so that no one would get to the crash site without permission. That was their job. His was to take care of the people that were hurt.

As he was looking out of the window, sound of the siren in his ears as his co-worker raced of the highway, he thought of his future patients, their families. How much pain would it cause them to suddenly receive a phone call, stating that their relative and loved one had been in an accident? What would they do? What if someone were to call him today, tell him that his father had been in a crash? What would he do?

Before he could think about other people and other scenarios, his lover and perhaps after tonight, fiancé, for example, they arrived. It was a mess, to state the least.

The smell of ashes and fire hung in the air, as well as petrol and burned rubber. It looked awful. One of the cars had flipped over and was still lying on its roof, windows shattered and blood seeping out from somewhere. People were standing on the sides, clutching themselves or each other. One woman was crying while she was kneeling down, a younger woman holding her. Her daughter, perhaps?

"Arthur!" Someone called out to him, gesturing to the car that was standing a little to his left, dented and broken. The flames had turned it black, parts of the metal bent in strange shapes. One of the firemen was currently sawing through the chassis, trying to pry it open. The medic hurried over to the car, ready to help his colleague as soon as the firemen would be able to lift the roof off. From inside of the car, he heard whimpers, that turned into screams as soon as he noticed the medics.

"Brian! Brian, oh my god! He was roasted! Help us, please, he is hurt. He was screaming so much, he…-" A sob stopped the other from talking and Arthur felt his blood run cold. Was that…? But before he could finish his thoughts, the roof was lifted from its original position and the gruesome smell of burnt flesh hit his nose, making him nauseous.

"Please, hurry up. Brian, he's… He is burnt, he's so hurt, there's blood everywhere." The words hurt the young Britt and he clenched his fists. It couldn't be true…

After a few tries, he and his colleague Marius had managed to lift Brian out of the wreck. The passenger was not hurt nearly as badly, the other had probably protected him with his body. It was a young boy, Arthur saw. And he recognised him.

"P-Peter…", he stuttered, then he looked back to the body they had just heaved out of the car. So it had been true… The boy seemed to realise it was Arthur he was talking to and the child finally broke down, harsh sobs spilling from his lips.

"We were on our way to your house. It… I don't know what happened. One moment we were driving and the next moment… We were not. And then the flames came and Brian hid me and… And…" The sobs wrecked his body as he tried to speak, hugging Arthur.

Fate was cruel, the medic decided as he heaved the boy into his arms and carried him towards the ambulance. Just mere minutes ago he had been wondering what he would feel when something would have happened to one of his loved ones. And now, here he was, holding the child of the man he had hoped to call his fiancé after tonight.

He felt strangely calm, holding the crying child and sitting down in the back of the car as he looked at what remained of the man he loved. It was a sickening sight, body covered in dark red wounds that seeped blood and yellow pus. It smelt bad and he felt nauseous. They drove off, to the hospital. No one said a word while Peter hid his face in the crook of Arthur's neck, shaking and sniffling. The boy fell asleep halfway through the ride, in shock and exhausted from the things that had happened. How would things continue? Who would take care of him?

First, the child had lost his mother after Brian had admitted that he was in love with a man. And now, the Scot was gone. Peter had nothing left.

In the hospital, the doctors confirmed what they had already thought, Brian had died from the flames while protecting his son. Peter broke down again, crying, screaming for his mother and father. It tore Arthur apart. After the boy had been picked up by his mother Arthur stayed for a little longer as he looked at the body in front of him. With tears in his eyes, he gently pressed his lips to what was left of Brian's forehead.

"Goodbye…", he whispered as a tear rolled down his face. His life would never be the same again.

* * *

In this fic, England and Scotland are not related.

This story was inspired by one of my recent nightmares. I was England and I don't know who it was that was in the car. But someone kept screaming about Brian, somewhat the same things Sealand was screaming about. So when I got the request, I just had to write about it. Sorry.

~Hana


	32. I get what I want

_Name:_ I get what I want

 _Pairing:_ Spain x Romano

 _Requested by:_ Animeexpertofcute

 _Word count:_ 416 (Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Jealous kiss

I get what I want

Tonight, Antonio was fierce. His kisses weren't as soft as usually, his hands were not ghosting over his body. Instead, his nails dug into Lovino's skin, leaving red marks. Teeth were biting his lips and on his neck, marking him there as well. He smirked.

It had been his plan all along, when he had gone out with the Spaniard. For the last few weeks, the cheerful man had not been paying attention to him, too busy flirting with the Dutch -or was she from Belgium?- secretary that helped him with his next architecture project. It was not like Lovino didn't trust him. Also, the woman was indeed very pretty. Her blonde hair looked like gold and her eyes were as green as grass on a summer day. So he could barely blame him. However, because Antonio was so devoted to his work and, to a certain extend, the woman, Lovino had not been getting as much action as he had been hoping for.

Thus, tonight he had decided to dance with someone else. It had not been dirty, nothing sexy. Just a little bit of touching and moving to the beat. But perhaps it had not been a good idea to choose Francis as the lucky bastard. Within an hour, the Spaniard had been seething with anger and jealousy and he had dragged the other out of the club, back to their car, where he had pinned him down on the passenger seat. And that's where they were now, kissing and biting each other.

"That was very mean of you", Antonio growled into his ear and Lovino felt shivers run down his spine.

"Oh, shut up, bastard. Let me have a little fun every once in a while, hm?"

"Fun? We can have a little fun together…" Another possessive kiss on his mouth, teeth scraping at his bottom lip as a silent question to deepen their kiss. Lovino gave in, letting Antonio's tongue invade his mouth. Again, nails dug into his skin and the Italian let out a hiss, biting down on his lover's tongue.

"You're mine", the Spaniard said, still jealous and desperate to make sure his little Italian was not going anywhere without him.

"Prove it", Lovino breathed and the other let out another growl and sat back into his seat, buckling up and starting the car. He didn't see the smirk on the Italian's flustered face. He had gotten what he wanted. Sometimes it was nice that the other was so emotional.


	33. I wouldn't want it any other way

_Name:_ I wouldn't want it any other way

 _Pairing:_ Denmark x Norway

 _Requested by:_ Nordictator (tumblr)

 _Word count:_ 671(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Exhausted parents kiss

I wouldn't want it any other way

He had been looking out of the kitchen window for about twenty minutes already. His husband and their son had made a beeline for the door as soon as they had finished breakfast and getting ready, warm boots and thick clothes on their frames. Especially Eiríkur was excited. It had been a while since he had seen snow, and the five-year old had been jumping all morning. With a little smile, Sindre watched him launch a snow ball at Jens, hitting him in the chest. The tall man feigned pain and fell to the ground, clasping his heart and pretending to die. The small blond danced a victory dance, arms in the air and stomping the snow around him.

It was nice to have a morning to himself after caring for their son the whole week. Jens had been overworking almost every day and Sindre had his own job that asked for his attention and time. After the boy had gone to bed yesterday, Sindre and Jens had both fallen asleep on the sofa, until they woke up a few hours later, only to return to their own room and proceed to pass out again. They were exhausted. Noticing the blush on his boys' cheeks, fiery red and pretty, the Norwegian decided it would be a good idea to have a little hot chocolate ready for when they would be coming back in.

After adding a little shot of vanilla to their cups, he heard the door open and soon the sound of stomping feet filled his house. Eiríkur was happily chatting about school to his father, while Jens probably helped him get his shoes off. Sindre meanwhile had wrapped up preparing their chocolate and held his own warm cup in his hands, enjoying the feeling on his skin. He was still facing the window, looking at their neighbour who had started to dig out his car from underneath the layer of white.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear the others enter the room and he was surprised by two pairs of cold hands finding their way underneath his jumper. He yelped, and turned around, a fake scowl on his face. Jens was holding the child in his arms, who was smiling devilishly at the smaller man in the kitchen. His nose was red and so were his cheeks, but he had an overall happy glow around him.

"We're back", he cheered after he was set onto the ground by his father.

"I see that. Did you have fun?", the other asked, handing the child his mug. Eiríkur settled onto his chair at the kitchen table and nodded, hiding his nose and mouth in his mug while he smeared the brown liquid all over his face, trying to drink. Jens chuckled.

"You have to raise him better, he almost killed me!", the Dane whined, hugging his husband from behind, sneaking his cold hands up his shirt and tickling the Norwegian. Sindre squirmed, but then turned around, facing his lover.

"That's because you can't fight", he deadpanned, letting the other rub their noses together.

"Hmpf", scoffed Jens, stealing a kiss from Sindre. Then he sighed and let his chin rest on the smaller one's head. "I really don't know how you can keep up with that little ball of energy", he whispered, placing a kiss to the top of Sindre's head. The Norwegian chuckled.

"It's tiring, but fun", he said, poking Jens' chest with his finger.

"Hmh", the Dane hummed, kissing his husband on the lips. Then, his eyes darted to their son, who had seemingly finished his drink. And he was sure that most of it sat on his face. "Alright buddy, let's get you cleaned up again, huh?"

Eiríkur laughed and ran away, followed by his father, who chased him into the bathroom. A few minutes later, Sindre heard the shower turn on, as well as giggles and laughter seeping into the hallway. He had a lovely, but tiring family. He wouldn't trade it for anything in this world.

* * *

This idea sparked while I was talking to Nordictator on Skype about how much I love DenNor and Anko family. So, this one's for you!

~Hana


	34. Like Lady and the Tramp

_Name:_ Like Lady and the Tramp

 _Pairing:_ Germany x Italy

 _Requested by:_ Into the Darkness Rose

 _Word count:_ 235(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Special Kiss: Spaghetti Kiss

Like Lady and the Tramp

It had seemed like a great idea to Italy. An all-you-can-eat Pasta restaurant. Of course, he had flown over right away, together with Germany, after he had heard the news from America. The boisterous nation had decided that he would test run his newest idea on the two.

Italy had insisted they would get one plate full of pasta, the extra-long spaghetti one. Germany had sighed in defeat, giving once again in to the whims of his companion. While they were eating, Italy joked about how much fun it would be if they were to end up in a situation like in The Lady and the Tramp, triggering an enormous blush from his blond partner. Germany curled another bite of pasta onto his fork and stared down at the tablecloth while he bit down onto the pasta, trying to get everything into his mouth.

The brunet had found something outside that was very interesting, also nibbling on a particularly long string and inching forward while trying to eat it. Until his lips met something soft. He looked back to the table, only to find a blushing and very embarrassed Germany in front of him.

"I-I think w-we just k-k-kissed like in the m-movie", the buff man finally stuttered, face still painfully red behind his hand. Italy just smiled at him and placed another kiss to his lips. In the end, he had gotten his wish


	35. I give my heart to you

_Name:_ I give my heart to you

 _Pairing:_ Faroe Islands x Iceland

 _Requested by:_ Shire-of-the-North

 _Word count:_ 967(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Return from the dead kiss

I give my heart to you

They say love always finds a way. Well, that's not true. Eyðun had come to learn of that truth the hard way. His lover, Eiríkur, had died. Killed himself trying to find a way to be with him. You see, Eyðun was not your average human being. He was a merman. If you're going to say, that's impossible, it's not. They are just very shy and don't show themselves to us, unless they deem you worthy. They can see right into your soul and see whether you are evil or not.

They had fallen in love, had been together for a long while. It had been nice, even though it was very difficult to see each other. They would always have to hide from the other humans and meet at night. Never could they stay in each other's worlds, they would die otherwise. But it didn't matter anymore. Eiríkur was dead.

Eyðun had been searching for a way to save his lover for weeks now. His body would probably be decomposing already and perhaps it had even been taken away by a predator already. But he knew there was a way for him to save the other. A powerful mage lived far into the depths of the ocean. He would grant your wish if you managed to get down to his home. It was nearly impossible for the merpeople, so no human had ever managed to get there.

But he was keen on trying. He didn't want to give up on Eiríkur just yet. If this failed and he survived, he would end all of it. Eyðun was prepared to die for his lover. Deeper and deeper he swam, reaching further and further down. He could see a glint of light, calling up to him to swim down and catch it. The pressure was almost too much, feeling like it would squeeze his intestines out through his mouth. Closing his eyes, he gave a few final flips with his fin.

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand touch his shoulder and he snapped his eyes open, meeting sky blue ones in front of him.

The mage was nothing like he had imagined. His hair was unruly and his tail and fins were red and white. He looked like he could swim very fast. Not beautiful or mysterious. Rather wild and untameable.

"How can I help you", he said, voice cheerful and loud.

"I hope you can make my wish come true." He explained his situation, shedding tears that were quickly lost in the ever salty ocean. The mage nodded and turned around, grabbing something behind him.

"Take this with you. You should let this drip over your lover's body. Or what is remained of that. In any case. This should do the trick. I hope this is enough?" Eyðun nodded, somewhat baffled by how easily the mage had decided to help him.

"I don't have to pay you back?", he asked, confused.

"No, you willing to give your heart for the sake of someone else is enough for me", the mage had responded, giving him another smile.

His swim back up was easier than he had imagined. After he had thanked the mage a few dozens of times, the merman had sent him back. The water seemed warmer and clearer and he held onto the little flask the other had given him as if it contained dear life. In some way, it possibly did.

The remains of what once was his lover, were very sad and confronting. The stench was nearly unbearable and it was an ugly sight. When he opened the bottle, the smell of spring embraced Eyðun. For a moment, he thought back on the days spent with Eiríkur. Soon, he would be able to see him again. Probably. He had no idea what the fluid in the bottle did.

Drop after drop landed on the remains, sizzling when they made contact with what was left. Eyðun didn't dare to watch, suddenly very insecure and scared for what would happen. Thus, he did not see the swirls that started to dance around him and the carcass, lifting him out of the water. He suddenly felt something rip in his chest and he opened his eyes frantically, only to discover that he was floating above the water.

Next to him, a figure was twisting and turning, dark clouds enveloping it. He could barely see what was hidden behind them. When they cleared his view, he felt tears prickle in his eyes. Before him, his beautiful Eiríkur had come back to life. Instead of legs, he now had a powerful, silver tail and he did not breathe through his mouth anymore, but through gills, like Eyðun.

When the other opened his eyes, they widened in shock. A small hand was placed in front of an open mouth, the other pointing to Eyðun's chest. When the blond looked down, he saw a nasty wound gape on his chest. It had already started to scar over, a few droplets of blood escaping from it. Before he could comment on it, Eiríkur wrapped him in a hug, pressing kisses to his cheeks, his nose and then a very sweet one to his mouth.

"I'm so glad you're back", Eyðun whispered after a while, pulling back a little. "I don't know what happened. When I resurrected you with the liquid the mage gave me, I felt I sharp pull in my chest, but…"  
The other put his hands onto the scar, and froze.

"It's not beating. You're… Your heart…" It was true. Eyðun felt it himself. There was no familiar beating underneath his hand when he followed Eiríkur's example. When he touched his lover's chest, he did feel it. And then it clicked in his mind. He had literally given his heart.


	36. That's what you get

_Name:_ That's what you get

 _Pairing:_ Japan x France

 _Requested by:_ Guest "Dark"

 _Word count:_ 564(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ French Kiss

That's what you get

" _Mon ami, I can't believe how chaste you are. It's not something bad per se, but it just caught my attention. I have never seen you wear something a little more revealing, nor do you seem to have any lustful desires. Do you even know how to kiss? Do you want big brother France to teach you?"_

The words still rung in his ears as he was sitting at his table, working on some documents. It had been three weeks since France had said that to him, in a strangely honest mood. It didn't hurt him, that wasn't the point. No, Japan was thinking of a way to prove the other wrong. It may appear like he did not care for love, lust and sex appeal. But still waters run deep.

During the next meeting, Japan stayed as polite and professional as he had always been. He did not pay heed to France, who had been shooting him glances all day. When they were finally set free, the Frenchman made a beeline for the Asian and wrapped an arm around him.

"So, Japan, have you thought about my offer?", he asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Yes, France-san, I have. I would like it very much if you could perhaps go through the trouble of trying to teach me. I hope I am not too much of a bother", Japan responded, bowing slightly. His plan seemed to work so far.

"Of course not, mon ami. Shall we head to the bar? Or would you prefer to do it in one of the breakrooms here?"

They decided to head to one of the breakrooms, wanting to make sure that no one found them. It would be the gossip of the century if they were found out. As soon as the door closed behind them and the lock was turned around, Japan felt France's hands on his body. He shuddered, leaning into the touch.

"Are you sure you want me to teach you?", the blond whispered into his ear and the Asian nodded. He was quickly spun around and the soft press onto his lips caught him by surprise and he couldn't respond properly at first. Only when he felt France's tongue brush against his own lips, did he move.

Swiftly, he took over, moving his lips against France's, nipping at them and running his hands down the Frenchman's sides. He tangled his fingers in the blond locks, gently tugging at them so that his angle would become better. France seemed to catch on and played along, but was soon left a panting mess under Japan's cunning hands that seemed to touch him in the right places.

The European gladly opened his mouth for the other, letting the wet tongue slip inside, allowing it to start a delicious dance around his own. When the ebony haired finally pulled back, France was hungry for more.

"France-san, please do not judge a book by its cover. The reason I do not show my sexual interest to the outside world, is simply because I consider it something private, something not suited for other people's eyes. Also, I would kindly propose to you to not toy with me. Because this is what you get." At the last sentence, he winked and smiled seductively, before leaving the room, abandoning the hot and bothered French nation. This time, Japan had won.

* * *

I am terribly sorry it took me so long to write these, but hey, I did write them at last!

For all of you who wanted to know, I passed my driving test ^^ I'm also slightly less bothered by writers block and lack of motivation, so perhaps I will write a little more the next few days.

As always thank you so much for your support and views/requests. We managed to get nearly 12.000 views as I am writing this. That is insane!

Forever grateful,

~Hana


	37. Doing the Dishes

_Name:_ Doing the dishes

 _Pairing:_ Spain x Romano

 _Requested by:_ Ariaprincess

 _Word count:_ 372(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Kiss on the ear

Doing the dishes

He loved Lovino's ears. He loved them so, so much. They were cute and beautiful, shaped like shells and they seemed so… Kissable? Biteable? Antonio was lucky that Lovino's sensitive spot was his ear. Every time the Spaniard wanted to initiate things, make them a little more exciting or just to tease his lover, he would kiss the top of the ears. Sometimes he would nibble on them, sometimes he would gently take the lobe in his mouth and softly pull. Lovino would turn into a whimpering mess in his arms.

Just like today.

They were doing the dishes. Okay, Lovino was doing the dishes. Antonio was goofing around, blowing soap foam towards Lovino, making it stick to his hair. He would flick water onto his face and playfully hit him with the dishcloth. Lovino only scowled. When the cheerful ball had enough of the play, he snuck his arms around Lovino, nuzzling his neck and sighing contently.

"You idiot, you're always messing around and playing, aren't you", the Italian scolded, care swinging in his voice.

"Hmh", the other hummed, before pressing a few kisses to the brunet's neck, slowly travelling upwards. Knowing where his lover was heading, Lovino pressured on, taking the last cup in his hand and drying it, before starting on the cutlery.

The kisses moved higher, to the base of his skull and Lovino felt shivers run down his spine, giving him goose bumps. He wanted these stupid dishes to be done. They had left them lying around for the past three evenings, mainly because either Antonio had distracted him with kisses or he had been too tired to care.

When he felt the Spaniard's lips envelope his ear lobe, Lovino leaned back, resting his head onto the taller's shoulder.

"Antonio…", he softly moaned, eyes half lidded.

"Leave the dishes be, I promise I will do them." Another kiss pressed to his ear and Lovino whirled around, dropping the dishcloth to the floor and jumping onto Antonio. He carried the little Italian to their room, staying up way longer than they had planned to.

And of course, the dishes were not done by Antonio the next morning, but by Lovino. With a little, satisfied smile on his lips.


	38. Ferrari Red

_Name:_ Ferrari red

 _Pairing:_ Canada x Romano

 _Requested by:_ Cali-chan

 _Word count:_ 281(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Drunk/Sloppy kiss

Ferrari red

Never would Matthew say out loud that he found the potty-mouthed Italian attractive. Handsome, even. Drop dead breathtakingly beautiful.

"What the fuck?" He had said it out loud, hadn't he?

Lovino's eyes were wide as he looked at his exchange student. He had just said out loud that he found his host attractive, handsome, just drop dead breathtakingly beautiful. Lucky for him, the tipsy Italian shared the feeling.

"I am so sorry!", Matthew tried to apologise, but the other waved it away.

"Don't worry, I don't mind." He scooted closer, wrapping an arm around the other. "You look as red as a Ferrari", his drunk mind said while he licked his lips. Matthew smelled nice.

"You're hot", the exchange blurted out. "And you smell interesting. Like pasta."

"Want to know whether I taste like pasta too?", Lovino smoothly replied, pulling the blond a little closer. When the other only nodded, the Italian smirked and pulled the normally shy boy into his lap.

He did taste like pasta. And alcohol. It was a wonderful kiss. Their lips clashed together, tongues caressing… It was overall very messy. Not as smooth and seductive as Lovino had hoped. But Matthew seemed to enjoy it.

Unsure what to do with hands, Matthew let them rest on Lovino's shoulders, pressing the two of them closer together. They kissed and kissed, until they were tired and less intoxicated. Smiling, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, they did not say anything until Lovino set their breakfast down. Matthew had been blushing every time the other looked at him.

"You know,", the Italian started, playful smirk on his lips. "I think I like Ferrari red best."


	39. French Vanilla & English toffee

_Name:_ French Vanilla  & English toffee and a Whole Grain Carrot Muffin

 _Pairing:_ Canada x Fem! Romania

 _Requested by:_ RinKagamine002

 _Word count:_ 450(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Giggly Kiss

French Vanilla & English toffee and a Whole Grain Carrot Muffin

Matthew had been working at Tim Hortons for around three months now. And he had noticed a few things. One, in this little town, most costumers were regulars, dropping by in the morning around the same time to pick up their coffee, sometimes a donut or a muffin. In the afternoon, schoolkids would show up, ordering cookies, sandwiches and other baked goods. He had also noticed a very pretty, young girl would drop by every Thursday, just around his break time. Usually, he would not be able to take her order, which annoyed him greatly.

Today was Thursday and it was almost break time. The door opened, letting the November air sweep into the room, chilling him. There she was again. She wore a dark red blazer with a black shirt underneath, white trousers and black high heeled boots. A hairband in her long blonde hair and a cheeky smile on her lips. Matthew gulped.

"H-hello and w-welcome to Tim Hort-tons… What can I g-get you", he stuttered, blushing nearly the same shade of red as her blazer.

"I'd like one French Vanilla and English toffee, and a whole grain Carrot Orange muffin." Her smile was breath taking and seemed to brighten the whole store. It may also have been because the sun peeked out from behind the dark clouds.

"O-okay so a carrot and English coffee, with a French Vanilla muffin." He looked at the counter, searching for the items. He didn't notice her giggling until he turned back to her.

"I'm sorry miss, we don't sell carrots", he mumbled, playing with a pen.

"That's fine, I don't want one anyway." She repeated her order and again, Matthew messed it up.

"So, a French coffee and an English toffee." Once more, he ended up not being able to find the items.

"Here, let me write it down for you." He took the notepad away from the blushing Canadian, writing down the things she wanted to have. After looking them over and blushing even more, stammering an apology, Matthew managed to get the desired goods and give them to her. She sat down and started to eat on her own.

When the next costumer came around and Matthew tore off the paper, he noticed another little message scribbled on the back of the one he was holding in his hand.

 _If you are as funny outside of the store as you are inside, please call me._

Underneath her number was scribbled down.

They met during his lunch break and talked, joked and giggled. Just when Matthew had to return, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, before giggling some more, blush on her cheeks.

"You're even funnier", she stated.


	40. Libraries and Bad jokes

_Name:_ Libraries and bad jokes

 _Pairing:_ France x Canada

 _Requested by:_ YukiOwO

 _Word count:_ 318(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Giggly kiss

Libraries and bad jokes

They were sitting in his favourite place to spend the free periods. The library. Matthew loved it so much, because it was always very quiet and calm. Not many students enjoyed the smell of dust and old books. But today, the library was not calm. That was because his boyfriend, Francis, had come along with him.

The Frenchman was bored 'till no end, making silly faces, telling horrible jokes and being quite _present_ in general. They had been receiving a few glares from the librarian already.

"Hey, Matthieu.", Francis whispered, "What's a frog's favourite drink?" The Canadian knew it was going to be a bad joke, because his boyfriend's lips were twitching as he tried to hold back his grin.

"I don't know, what is it", the other responded, trying to keep his demeanour uninterested.

"Croaka-Cola!" Francis exclaimed, laughing heartily while Matthew shook his head, trying to hold back his laughter.

"Please shut up", he whispered to the other.

"Nu uh"

"Francis, please. We'll get kicked out."

"No we won't. Two guys walk into a bar, the third one ducks"

"Oh my god Francis", he giggled, holding his stomach that was becoming painful from the held-in laughter. "Please stop."

"It's read and if you eat it, it will break your teeth." The Frenchman enjoyed the confused look on his cute boyfriend's face a little too much.

"A brick!", he explained when the other didn't respond and Matthew groaned through a fit of giggles. Just when the older one was about to tell another joke, he felt the Canadian's lips on his own.

"Please shut up and keep kissing me", the younger one chuckled in between the kisses and Francis was happy to oblige. When they pulled apart for air, he spoke again.

"Your kiss is awesome, but wait for my French kiss to blow your mind."

Needless to say, they were kicked out of the library soon after. 


	41. No sleep tonight

_Name:_ No sleep tonight

 _Pairing:_ Japan x America

 _Requested by:_ InsideMyBrain

 _Word count:_ 560(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Seductive Kiss

No sleep tonight

Kiku would have never expected his boyfriend to be shy about this. Of all the countries he knew, America had seemed one of the most confident ones. He had been boasting about this all the time, saying that he had kissed and done other things with others many times. So how come that after nearly a year of dating, not once had the other advanced on him. Surely, they had kissed and cuddled, but never had things gotten more… Exciting.

It bothered the Japanese nation and he had come up with a plan. While he was doing the dishes, he let Alfred watch television. After the clean-up, he settled onto the couch, next to his love. But instead of paying attention to the show on the screen, Kiku let his eyes feast on the sight before him. Absentmindedly he let his hand wander over Alfred's leg, drawing patterns, moving higher while his lips adorned the American's neck.

Alfred shuddered under the touch and Kiku felt more secure about it, moving closer and kissing more. He let his lips wander upwards to meet his lover's. When their lips locked, the younger nation finally tore his eyes away from the screen and looked at the Asian that was halfway splayed across his lap. Kiku looked up, eyes wide and let his eyes flutter shut, hoping he looked seductive. When the other barely responded, the dark haired male licked his lips and sat himself properly onto the American's lap.

His lips were captured in a kiss again and Alfred felt the other wrap his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Nervous, he felt his heartbeat pick up and cheeks flush. When Kiku licked his bottom lip, he felt his pants tighten around his groin. Oh crap. He was not ready for this. What if he did something wrong? Wanting to voice his sorrows, he opened his mouth, only to find the other sliding their tongues together.

When they finally broke apart, America was out of breath and heavily aroused. Kiku smirked at him while his hand travelled more south, resting just above the hem of his trousers. Alfred pressed his hips forward, urging the other to touch him, but Kiku refused and instead started to abuse the American's lips again. Biting, gnawing, licking and sucking, letting their tongues touch and making the other moan. He was in control tonight and there was no way he would let the other sleep tonight.

"America~", he whined, wiggling in the other's lap, 'accidently' brushing their groins together. Alfred jerked up, grabbing the Japanese nation's wrists and pinning him down. But when he looked at the other, he seemed at a loss.

"Kiku, I… Er…" He blushed, looking away from his lover. Kiku let his leg press against the bulge in America's pants, making him moan softly.

"I'll lead, don't worry.", he promised, looking into the bluest eyes in front of him.

"Okay", the other retorted, leaning forward to give the other a chaste kiss. Japan, however, was having none of that.

He pressed his leg onto the bulge again, biting the younger nation's lower lip and letting his fingers rake over the broad back he had come to know.

"Take it off", he whispered when his hands stopped at the hem of the Captain America shirt. No, he would not let the other sleep tonight.

.

I'm not happy with this at all. I'm no good with writing seductive things, sorry about that. InsideMyBrain, I still hope you somewhat enjoyed the story

~Hana


	42. Nightly meeting

_Name:_ Nightly meeting

 _Pairing:_ US x UK

 _Requested by:_ tokyoghoul234

 _Word count:_ 449(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ I'm sorry kiss

 _Special requests:_ Revolutionary war

Nightly meeting

At night, the guns stopped firing. The men had gathered around campfires and exchanged grim looks and drinks. War awful. Nothing like the songs, the poems and the stories. Nothing heroic, no glory in it. Just death and pain. Families were torn apart, a people was torn apart. The price of freedom was paid in young men's lives.

In between all this raging, this hate, the country of America was looking for the country that had raised him and became his friend, England. He had no ill motives while he looked for the other. Neither of them wanted this war. It may seem so, on the battlefield. But deep inside, both of them were disappointed in themselves and the other that things would end this way. England a little more than the other.

The forest was really dark. Really, _really_ dark. America understood why the other had chosen it to meet. They didn't want anyone to see, so they had to hide, meet in secret. Yet couldn't it be somewhere less dark and scary? The soldier whipped around when he heard twigs break next to him. He froze. Shaking with fear, he readied his machete.

The sound of steps approached him, getting closer and closer. America trembled more and more. God damn it, why was he always alone in situations like these? He was a hero, sure. But he really needed a sidekick. Every hero had one, he reasoned.

A hand suddenly touched and he would have screamed, hadn't it been for the other hand that grasped around his mouth.

"Stay silent, you bloody oaf", someone whispered into his ear and he relaxed.

"Hello England", America whispered back as he hugged the other.

Sadness was always present in their meetings. They both knew it, but neither of them allowed themselves to show it. Except for tonight.

Perhaps it was because of the fright that had gripped their hearts, perhaps because of the many, many men they had lost today. America was the first one to cry.

"I'm sorry", he chocked, tears falling onto England's uniform. "I'm sorry for the uprising, I'm sorry for Boston, I'm sorry for the battles, I'm sorry for the dead. I'm sorry for all the mothers who lost their sons, their husbands. I'm sorry for all the sisters who lost their brothers and fathers. I am so sorry my people want this."

It broke England's heart to see the other like this. They both didn't want this, so why was America apologising. With tears pressing against his eyes, he gave a little kiss to the other's forehead. "I'm sorry too…"

They stayed like this, holding each other and apologising, mourning the dead of the war.


	43. 525600 Minutes

_Name:_ Five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six-hundred minutes

 _Pairing:_ Austria x Switzerland

 _Requested by:_ IceAegis

 _Word count:_ 613(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Jealous kiss

Five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six-hundred minutes

" _Five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six-hundred minutes, Five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six-hundred moments so dear_. _Five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six-hundred minutes, how do you measure, measure a year?"_

It was the school performance. A play written by the drama teacher. It was about a man and a woman who fell in love, lived through hardship. The usual thing. Vash was not a big fan of cliché drama's like these, but his boyfriend was the lead player, together with their friend Liz, so he came and watched it anyway. And he was not glad that he had done so.

Usually, he was not a jealous person. Roderich could go out, could talk to anyone he wanted. Vash didn't care. Yet something… Something in the brunet's eyes was different and it irked the blond to no end. The way he looked at Liz as he sung about love, about their relationship they had played that day. It seemed so genuine, so not acted. As if he really were in love with her.

So, Vash had been silent on their way home. He didn't say anything, just stared out the window as they held hands in the back seat. The chauffeur didn't seem to notice anything except for the road before him, so the Swiss had agreed to being a little more touchy when they were driven home.

Roderich knew something was up with his love. The frown was deeper today and he had not blushed at all when the brunet had taken his hand. Even though they had been dating for nearly a year, the slightest contact still made the smaller one blush. Not that he minded. It looked cute.

Today, they were going to stay at Vash' place again. His parents were still on a business trip, just like Roderich's parents. But Vash' sister didn't enjoy being alone in the house with just the personnel. They treated her so distant, she always said. It made her feel lonely. So, every other day, Roderich would stay with them for dinner.

As soon as they had entered the hallway and the door was closed, Vash went in for an angry kiss. Harsher, more teeth, less love. He felt himself let go of the feeling that had been stewing in his chest since the end of the performance.

The Austrian was taken aback, but only for the blink of an eye. He kissed back just as fierce, digging his nails into the other's skin. When they finally broke apart for air, Roderich had a smile on his face.

"What is this about, my dear?", he asked Vash, holding the small of his back.  
"Nothing. You're mine", was the curt answer.  
"Of course I am. What made you think I wasn't?"

Vash felt his cheeks heat up as he mumbled something. This was not going the way it was supposed to be going. He just wanted to disappear and ignore the brunet for a while after they had kissed.

"I'm sorry, I did not quite catch that. Would you be so kind to repeat that, love?", Roderich asked.

"The way you looked at her. You looked very in love with her." Honestly, he wanted to disappear from this world.

At first, the Austrian looked at him in confusion. He opened his mouth to say something, before his pretty eyes suddenly lit up and he let go of Vash.

"Oh, did you mean the song? Thank you for the compliment. Truthfully, I did use a little trick to make it possible to get a realistic look. But I can assure you that I was not thinking of a woman while I sang." The blond huffed and crossed his arms.

"No?"

"No." Slender arms wound around his waist. "I was thinking about you."

* * *

I did not die, I am still working on these. Sometimes. I'm sorry if it takes so long.

The song is _Seasons of Love_ , mostly known by Glee

~Hana


	44. Mine

_Name:_ Mine

 _Pairing:_ Germany x North Italy

 _Requested by:_ Ewa

 _Word count:_ 388(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Jealous Kiss

Mine

It was normal for Italy to be clingy, Germany told himself as he watched the brunet hang all over an uncomfortable Austria. The musician was trying his best to not touch anywhere inappropriate, looking more uncomfortable than when Prussia had discovered that Hungary was a girl.

The two were discussing music and art together. Nothing strange. Nothing suspicious. Yet Germany felt jealous every time Italy's hands lingered a little longer than necessary on the aristocrat's arm or back.

The German was not the one to be jealous. He wasn't the one to know what he felt in the first place. Or show it, for that matter. But tonight, he really did not doubt what he was feeling. His stomach churned and he felt his cheeks flame with anger.

That was it. The moment when Italy snaked his arms around Austria's neck, he had enough. He marched over to the sofa and grabbed Italy's hand.

"We're leaving", he said, not giving an explanation for his strange behaviour. He did not notice how his fellow German-speaking nation seemed somewhat relieved that Italy had been pried away from him.

As soon as they were out of the room and the door was closed behind them, Germany turned around and pushed Italy against the wall. Pinning his hands above his head, a knee forced between his legs, the blonde pushed forward until he felt their chests touching. Usually he would have felt awkward, but not today.

He waited a second and let his eyes graze over Italy's lips, before smothering them underneath his own. The kiss was demanding, possessive and raw. His nails dug into the skin on Italy's pinned hands and he pressed further against the other's crotch.

They broke apart for air, but Germany did not feel satisfied, so he returned, prying Italy's lips apart with his tongue. He felt the vibration of the gasp on his tongue. It encouraged him more and he took the brunet's hands in his right, letting his left hand trail down to the small of Italy's back. He pulled the nation closer, flush against himself.

When they broke apart again, Germany moved his head lower, biting on his lover's neck, making him whine.

"Germany…" He looked up, expression slightly angry. "What's going-?"

"Mine", the German growled. It seemed Italy's idea had worked out perfectly.


	45. This is very awkward

_Name:_ This is very awkward.

 _Pairing:_ Norway x Iceland

 _Requested by:_ Call me awesome

 _Word count:_ 321(Story only)

 _Kiss:_ Awkward kiss

Eiríkur is Iceland, in case you can't tell from the story.

This is very awkward.

Awkward. That's what this was. He knew he wasn't supposed to go to the shop at night. But he still did. He wanted to see that gorgeous man that worked the night shift every other week.

Like almost every night Eiríkur would visit the little shop, he had set his alarm to wake up on time. However, the lack of sleep seemed to get to him and he had knocked over a shelf with canned goods, shattering most of the tin cans. Now the food was all over the floor and the object of his desire was scowling more than usually. Eiríkur gulped.

 _Please stop glaring at me, I know I am stupid and you hate me now, oh my god please stop looking so angry, it's hot but scary and I will piss my pants and cry, please stop._

His thoughts made no sense at all, as to be expected at three forty-five in the morning.

"I… Uh… Sorry?" Way to go Eiríkur. That's totally going to make him fall for you. If he swings that way anyway.

The man joined him in between the mess Eiríkur had made and started to collect the tins that had not busted open from the impact. When he didn't get a response, he helped the man gather up the mess. The store was silent safe for the sound of scraping aluminium. Yes, this was definitely awkward.

"Could I, you know, maybe buy you coffee or something to make this better?", he finally asked. The store attendant looked up to him. The man seemed to ponder on that thought for a bit, until he suddenly smirked.

"Coffee wouldn't do the trick, but I suppose a kiss might help." What.

"Oh… Err… Sure?" Eiríkur proceeded to lean forward and pressed his lips gently against the other's. When he pulled back, he saw an angry store attendant.

"That was supposed to be a joke." Very awkward.

* * *

I'm still alive!

~Hana


	46. Update

Hey everybody,

I'm sorry to make this post, but I decided to move the story/updates to Tumblr. The reason is that sometimes the requests get lost and/or I forget about them because I am working on other things or not at home.

Since I am online on tumblr every day, I thought that it would be handier to have a sideblog for this, there. I will also be posting short drabbles.

The rules are still the same, you just send in a request on anon (or not) and I will post them on tumblr.

Also, the chapters here will stay online, I'll just not update here anymore.

The blog is called 25-types-of-kisses, which is also the ulr. You'll find it.

See you there!

~Hana


End file.
